Destroying the World and Other Fine Hobbies
by shortbuschick1462
Summary: Loki has agreed to stay with Thor, Jane, Darcy, and Erik. What happens when he meets the equally-headstrong Darcy? Mischief runs amok! Rated M for slightly explicit content, but it's not smut-ish.
1. Alpha

**Author's Note: Well, this is my first Thor Fanfic. He and Loki are unquestionably the most interesting superheroes/gods…even though I know that gods don't exist and there is only one God haha. Anyway, this is how I stave off my depression that "The Avengers" doesn't come out for another month and that "Thor 2" doesn't come out for like a year and a half. Hope you enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: I can wish until my brain bursts that Thor was mine…but he isn't. Lord, he is so gorgeous and even his muscles have muscles, but he belongs to someone else, as well as the rest of the gang.**

A pair of smoky green eyes stared up into the starry sky, wondering what to do next. The orange glow emanating from the nearby flames of a small fire lit the contours of the man's face, glinting off of the glossy black hair and creating sparks in the eyes.

This man was Loki Odinson, post-world-destruction phase. His insufferable elder brother had brought him to New Mexico to stay with his human love and her friends. Loki had to admit that he liked Jane; she was kind, caring, and compassionate. She had a quiet sense of humor that he appreciated, and she was the one who loved Thor unconditionally. Loki admired Jane for such things.

The god of mischief didn't particularly care for Erik Selvig. He felt that the old man was judgmental and intolerant. Which, from an outsider's perspective, he was. Until he got to know the person, at least; look how close he was to Thor now! He'd despised the god of thunder when he first met him.

The only person Loki didn't know what to think of was Darcy Lewis. He hadn't directly encountered her yet; in fact, he'd only caught a glimpse of her backside as she'd gotten into Jane's van. Even so, she was a friend of his brother's, and said to be very—

"Never thought I'd see _you _moping around up here."

Sharp-tongued.

"It would appear that I have the skill to surprise you even as a complete stranger, Miss Darcy," Loki sighed. Always the gentleman, even when utterly irritated.

Darcy couldn't see the Asgardian's face, but she could see the long, black hair draped over the back of the lawn chair and hear his soft, lilting, graceful accent. They were up on the lab's rooftop, a place where she often came for solitude. She guessed that that wasn't going to happen much anymore.

"Cut the formal crap and just call me Darcy like every other normal person," the science assistant huffed, plopping into the lawn chair parallel to Loki's. Darcy folded her hands behind her head and followed his lead, looking up at the stars.

"You are insinuating that my brother is a normal person," Loki remarked dryly. He was a bit surprised when the woman next to him laughed. Though, she was hardly a woman; Darcy Lewis was closer to a young adolescent.

"I guess he isn't normal. Even his muscles have muscles; Chuck Norris would run away like a screaming girl."

"I have no notion as to whom you are referring."

"Oh, yeah. Sorry, I forgot. You fell from the sky, too. Guess you're branded abnormal as well."

"Then, as it stands to reason that I am not normal, I shall continue calling you 'Miss Darcy,' Miss Darcy." The trickster's mouth was screwed up into a cocky half-smirk, but he didn't see the dirty look Darcy tossed him. He was still studying the balls of burning gas anchored high in the heavens.

"Then what do I call you? 'Sir Loki?'"

The god of mischief finally turned to look at his unwelcome companion, getting a glimpse of the human that was Darcy Lewis. Her skin was pale, and her sassy, cunning face was framed by curtains of dark and spirally hair. Her chocolate-colored eyes had a golden tint to them and were magnified a bit by the lenses of her glasses that sat halfway down her nose.

"If you're taking suggestions, Miss Darcy, '_Master_ Loki' tickles my fancy."

Darcy looked at him as if he'd sprouted another head. "No thanks, I'll just call you 'Loki.'"

"That will suffice," Loki chuckled, turning his attention back to the stars. Darcy suddenly felt foolish; she realized that he'd been kidding about being called "master."

Silence ensued. Darcy looked at the god's face for a moment longer, then tried to follow his eyes' trajectory into the sky to see what he was staring at. It turned out to be difficult, and the science assistant's eyes were squinted with the effort. She decided to give up.

"What are you looking at?" she blurted in an agitated fashion.

Loki glanced over, his emerald-gray eyes widened with mild surprise at her tone of voice. He kept silent for a few moments, then raised an arm heavenward and pointed with a slender finger. "Yggdrasil."

Darcy exhaled impatiently. "I may be an astrophysicist's assistant, but I have no idea what that looks like. If it even exists," she added under her breath.

At this, Loki's brows pulled together, and his eyes sparked in confusion. "You know my brother and I, but still you doubt the existence of the tree?"

"I may know Thor, but I don't know you."

"Very well, then. You know how we came to be here, but you do not believe in Yggdrasil?"

Darcy tore her eyes away from his hypnotic gaze, repositioning her arms and looking back up into the blackness. She shrugged, making a face at the stars. "I don't know. I mean, one day, I'm just helping Jane chart stuff that's apparently vital to the astronomer's world. The next, your brother shows up and completely changes my world…changed everything I ever believed in. And then he left and you came and had that, "I'm-going-to-destroy-the-world" complex. Now, you both are here. It's just so surreal…I feel like I'm going to wake up from a dream," she explained.

Loki said nothing, just studiously kept his gaze on the sky. He sensed that she was about to make some emotional appeal to him.

"Thor really misses you, you know. You're his brother," Darcy revealed quietly.

Loki forced himself to remain stone-faced. "We are no more brothers than you and he are."

"You don't have to have the same blood to be brothers. You were raised together; you know each other's ins and outs, faults and strengths. That is what makes you brothers, not your biological composition," Darcy replied. She could tell by the look on Loki's face that she'd said the wrong thing.

When he looked back to her, the trickster's face had contorted sharply, his green eyes darkening with simmering anger. "Well, my _brother _forgot to mention to me that I was not of the House of Odin. I was sired by Laufey, the King of the Frost Giants. You have no idea how…how shameful it was to be the very enemy that your home realm despises," Loki spat venomously.

Darcy was not intimidated; his unjust anger had begun to stoke the flames of her own. "So you're adopted, big deal. I was, too. You don't see _me_ trying to take over the world to compensate," she growled.

This took him off guard, and his face smoothed with shock. "You were?"

"I believe I just confirmed that."

"Were you not angry at your guardians?" Loki questioned.

"Angry? Why would I be angry? I owe everything to them. They fed me, clothed me, and loved me when my real parents wouldn't. I love my adopted parents. I love my adopted brother, too. He's my best friend in the world."

Loki was quiet. He'd never approached the thought of his parents in this manner before; nor his brother. "I suppose you are correct," he said slowly. "But did your parents keep it a secret from you?"

Darcy grimaced internally; he had her there. She'd been informed about her status. "My parents told me as soon as I was able to understand fully. I think I was in the sixth grade."

The god of mischief looked away, disgusted once more. "I found out in the throes of battle. One of the giants touched me, and my arm…it just turned into one of them. I had to confront my father in the protected armory! He was too much of a coward to face me directly, to apologize for the error of his ways! Odin never sought my forgiveness for keeping the secret of my lineage from me!" Loki roared. His voice had steadily rose throughout his little speech, and he had been moved to rise from the chair and loom over Darcy's form.

She knew that the angry god could totally kill her with a flick of his hand, but Darcy rose and got right up in his face. Or, in his chest rather; Loki was a good deal taller than her. "You expected Odin to apologize for saving your life when your real father left you to die?" she demanded.

Loki felt his fury come to an absolute boil. This…this human was presuming to tell him that his manner of approaching the subject of his family was wrong. And he was angry because he knew that this woman was right.

Darcy took a good look at Loki, watching his jaw clench and unclench along with his fists, trying to calm himself. He was very tall; as tall or taller than Thor, which took about six feet and five inches. She couldn't really see his build properly under all the Asgardian clothing, but she could tell that he was lean. Slowly, slowly, the fight drained from his face.

"I suppose I did," he said quietly. When Darcy looked into his emerald eyes, she saw raw pain. And then, all of the sudden, he was gone.

Darcy took a disbelieving step forward, waving her hand around where his form used to stand. "Loki?" All was quiet. "Loki!" she called again. But still the night was silent. Darcy felt strangely lonely. She'd heard tales of the god of mischief's adventures, but she'd never really experienced his unique powers firsthand.

But the god of mischief couldn't hear Darcy's calls. He was halfway across the city now, just resting atop a deserted roof's chimney. A thin stream of smog leaked from it, and he knew that his clothes would soon soak in the stench of smoke. However, Loki did not care.

The lonely god peered across the sparse city known as "New Mexico." There was a pain in the center of his chest, right where his heart lay. Loki put his pale hand over the left side of his sternum, counting out the rhythm of the slow, steady beat. _Odin. Thor. Frigga. Loki._ They were all a family. Loki knew it, but it was hard to accept and even harder to go back to his mother and father after all he had done. His brother, however, welcomed him with open arms, no matter what Loki had done.

A yawn got the better of Loki. Sighing, he pushed himself up from the chimney and thought of Jane's observatory. With a flick of his hand, he was there.

Loki's cape, tunic, and trousers reeked of smoke, but his tunic was the worst. He unclipped his cape and slipped his tunic off, laying them on top of what Thor told him was a washing machine. He put his toe against the heel of his boot and eased it off, repeating the action to remove the other. Loki padded barefoot to his room, then paused in the doorway. He had a strange urge to oversee Miss Darcy's safety.

The god of mischief peeked his head into Miss Darcy's quarters. She was dead asleep, her face smoothed out peacefully. He could hear the gentle inhale and exhale of her breaths. It relaxed him and he returned to his room.

As Loki climbed into bed, he ran his fingers through his long, black mane. Perhaps tomorrow he would request that Miss Darcy cut it.

With that thought in mind, he rolled over and went to sleep.


	2. It'll Be Fun

**Author's Note: Second chapter. It's kind of hard to write this type of story about Loki because…well…he's Loki, and there's a lot of internal conflict. I'll make an effort to play up on his uncertainty and attitudes. **

**Disclaimer: None of this stuff is mine except the Fanfic storyline.**

Darcy Lewis woke up the next morning, thinking that it would be no different from the same old daily grind. Still yawning off the grogginess, she slipped on a thin, gray t-shirt and some black shorts. Darcy realized that there was something wrong with her vision; everything was blurry. She couldn't even see her own reflection in the mirror she was standing in front of; it was just a smudgy blob. Then she remembered that she had glasses.

Well, her hair was a wreck, she decided. After a few brushstrokes, she gave up and piled it on top of her head, twisting a ponytail holder around it and making a sloppy bun. Darcy nodded in approval at the mess, then headed for the kitchen.

As soon as she was down the stairs, Darcy had every intention of getting herself a bowl of Lucky Charms. She started whistling some happy-sounding tune and began to skip the rest of the way to the kitchen, waving at her taser (it was sitting on the coffee table) as she passed the living room.

Darcy stopped dead in her tracks right as she entered the kitchen; a pale, very bare back was leaning over the sink, washing its hands. Her paralyzed lips ceased their song. A feeling of dread began to manifest itself in the center of her chest, only to go into supernova as Loki Odinson turned from his place at the sink, drying his hands on a dishtowel. When she was able to tear her eyes away from his muscled figure, she saw that awful, smug smirk plastered across his face. Darcy was literally drowning in her dread; she wished she could just dig a hole, crawl into it, and die. Sure, she walked in on Thor when he was shirtless all the time. But that was Thor; she actually _liked _him. Flip that emotion around, and that's what she felt for his brother. Utter _dis_like.

"Ah. Good morning, Miss Darcy. Do you make habit of sneaking up on people?" Loki asked, still smirking. He could feel Darcy's discomfort radiating from her; it gave him a sort of perverse pleasure.

"Do you own a shirt?" she retorted hotly. His derisive attitude towards her just pissed her off.

Loki laughed; it was full of condescension. "Actually, Miss Darcy, I do not."

Damn. He was right. All he had was his stupid-looking armor from Asgard, Darcy realized.

"Then go get one," Darcy growled. She turned to exit the kitchen, but ran smack-dab into an enormous chest. In the space of two seconds, her ribs were being crushed by one of Thor's bear hugs.

"Darcy!" he greeted her cheerfully, his scruffy beard tickling her cheek.

"Choking, not breathing!" she gasped out, giggling breathlessly.

"I am sorry, my friend," Thor apologized, putting her down and loosing a deep, rumbling laugh.

Darcy mirrored his mirth with a laugh of her own. She remembered Loki's presence, then jerked her thumb over her shoulder at him. "He needs clothes. Maybe you could help him out with that."

"My clothing would not fit him," Thor stated.

"Yeah, I know. You have, like, eight hundred pounds of muscle on him. But I meant maybe you could take him to get some. I'm sure Jane would love to go, too."

"You do not want to come along?" the god of thunder asked.

"I've got some work to do here, so I'll be pretty busy," Darcy replied. It wasn't a lie, but she knew she'd say anything to avoid a day out with Loki, even if it was in the company of Jane and Thor.

Thor shrugged. "Very well. I shall go tell Jane our day's endeavors." Darcy shuddered at the thought of being alone with Loki again.

"No, no, you stay here and eat breakfast. I'll go tell her for you," she said, putting on a charming smile. Thor smiled back as if she was taking his picture for something called Facebook again.

Darcy hightailed it out of the kitchen, taking the stairs two at a time to inform Jane of her impending doom for the day. When she walked into her room, Jane was in front of her mirror, applying a bit of mascara to her already-long eyelashes. Her light brown hair was pulled back in a simple yet elegant French braid, and as she slipped the mascara brush back into the tube, the assistant could see why Thor had fallen in love with her. Jane Foster was, by far, the prettiest woman Darcy had ever seen. Sans makeup, she was still gorgeous. Jane had an open kindness showing in her face, and a spark of playfulness was always hiding somewhere in those brown eyes.

Needless to say, she and Thor were perfect for one another.

Darcy casually leaned against the bathroom's door frame. "Hey, you and Thor are taking Loki to town to get some clothes. Thor wanted me to tell you."

Jane glanced up at her friend via the mirror she was standing in front of. "You're coming too, right?" Darcy's silence confirmed Jane's fear; the fiery astrophysicist whirled around, a pleading look on her face. "Darcy! You have to come, otherwise I'll be stuck with them!"

Darcy arched a brow. "Since when do you not want to hang out with Thor?"

Jane rolled her eyes in frustration. "It's not Thor. It's just that Loki's gonna be there, too! Please come with us," she begged her friend, her brown eyes in full puppy mode.

Darcy began to feel the pinpricks of guilt; she was such a sucker. "Jane…" she sighed, her resolve wavering. "I have work I need to finish. You know that."

At this, Jane's face brightened like the sun popping out from behind a cloud. "No, you don't! I finished it for you last night! Please come…it'll be fun!"

Darcy just stared at the expression on Jane's face. It was the, "I won." grin. She'd become quite familiar with it; her best friend was capable of getting her to do nearly anything.

So, Darcy threw her hands up and exited the room, growling curses under her breath. Jane could be heard squealing, "Thanks, Darcy!" in the background.

The disgruntled young woman clomped back down the stairs, still muttering under her breath. She pushed right past Thor to get to the cereal cabinet, still steamed with herself for bending to the will of Jane Foster.

Lucky Charms just began to clink into the bowl when Thor spoke up. "Jane convinced you to go, didn't she?" the god chuckled.

Darcy shot him a black look. "Just eat your eggs, yeah?"

Thor laughed and then shoveled another forkful of eggs into his mouth, knowing better than to argue with her. There weren't many beings that scared him in this realm, but Darcy Lewis was certainly someone that he wanted to keep happy.

Darcy had just finished her bowl of cereal and was cleaning it out in the sink when Loki reentered the kitchen, wearing a button-down of Thor's. It was enormous on him; the shirt was so large that the breast pocket was hanging down near the base of his ribcage because Loki had had to tuck so much of it in. A laugh burst out from between Darcy's lips. "The eighties called. They want their style back." Her laughter continued.

The god of mischief glared at her. He wasn't sure what she was referring to, but Loki guessed she was insulting him. "You are validating my inherent mistrust of you," he sniffed.

Darcy laughed again. "I'm really easy to get along with once you learn to worship me," she fired back. Thor laughed at their witty exchange.

"The day that anyone worships you, Miss Darcy, is the day that we are all doomed."

"Is the pot calling the kettle black?" Darcy said, her arms crossing over her chest.

Unknowingly, Loki's arms did the same. "What do you mean by that?"

"I meant, 'Can you taste the hypocrisy as it spills out of your mouth?'"

Loki still looked confused, so Darcy widened her smirk and arched an eyebrow. "Forcing people to worship you didn't exactly safeguard the human race, either."

Loki's emerald eyes darkened with anger, bringing out the smoky gray that hid in his irises. He did not, however, have a comeback. Darcy Lewis was right yet again; he'd set a verbal trap for himself. She'd led him right to it and slaughtered him.

Instead of thinking of a reply, Loki simply gave her a cuttingly sardonic smile and changed the subject. "Today should be enjoyable." A complete idiot could have caught the sarcasm in his voice; it was practically dripping off of his words.

Darcy smiled right back, mirroring his tone exactly. "I look forward to it." She breezed past him, intentionally bumping into his shoulder as she did so. Loki turned his head to look at her over his shoulder, his jaw muscles rigid with anger.

Thor stood, cleansed his plate, and set it into the sink's basin. He hesitated, then clapped a hand onto his brother's shoulder. "Once you get to know her, you'll come to like her as I have." Loki looked back, his eyes boring into his brother's.

"You are wrong about a lot of things, brother. This is yet another example," Loki sighed, giving Thor a tired half-smile. The god of thunder laughed, squeezed his brother's shoulder, and returned upstairs to his and Jane's room to prepare for the day's outing.

Loki exhaled deeply, then went outdoors to wait by their means of transportation. They called it a "van." Once he caught sight of it, he blinked in shock. A low groan sounded from within his throat.

Where was a stallion when you needed one?

**Author's Note: The next chapter will actually be about the shopping trip. Stay tuned! (: Constructive criticism is welcome!**


	3. Shopping Day

**Author's Note: Hey! I'm really sorry that it's been so long since I've updated…I got grounded :P**

**Disclaimer: Still own zilch of the characters.**

Loki Odinson's normally pale face was even more white than usual as he stared with wide eyes at the road that lay before them. His fingers were currently placing a death grip onto his seat's armrests. The vehicle known as a "van" was accelerating at an alarming speed with none other than Darcy Lewis at its helm.

"We are all going to die," he hissed through clenched teeth. The god's heart was pounding in his chest. Loki wasn't afraid of many things, but Darcy's driving was definitely one of them, he thought as the crazed woman jerked the car away from the edge of the road.

Darcy looked over her shoulder at him so he could see her roll her eyes. As soon as she looked away from the road, the van seemed to gravitate towards the shoulder once again. "Keep your eyes focused ahead!" Loki half shouted.

"Her driving isn't bad, Loki. It's just not good for someone's first vehicular experience," Jane said, muttering the last part under her breath.

"I heard that!" Darcy exclaimed indignantly. Her eyes flashed at Jane's through the rearview mirror, and Jane held her hands up in surrender, leaning her head against Thor's shoulder and looking out the window.

The laboratory and house hybrid that they all lived in was located on the outskirts of New Mexico. Arizona was an hour's drive west, and Texas was an hour's drive south. It would take an extra forty-five minutes in either state to get to a city with a worthwhile shopping mall.

"What's your clothing preference, Loki?" Darcy asked.

Loki tore his eyes away from the passing trees outside his window and met her eyes in the mirror, eyebrows knitted together in confusion. "Preference?"

"You know; style, price range?"

Loki tilted his head to the side a bit. "I'm afraid I don't know the answer to the first option, but I can tell you that money is not of any concern whatsoever."

Darcy took the exit heading to Texas. They had better, more affluent outlets in the malls there like Dolce & Gabbana.

The rest of the trip was relatively silent. Jane and Thor were dozing against one another, Darcy was concentrating on the directional signs, and Loki was busy looking at all the scenery they were driving by. When they finally pulled into the mall's parking lot, it was nearly noon.

Thor and Jane roused as the van jolted to a stop because Darcy put the emergency brake in place and shifted to park. Loki pursed his lips in distaste as his body was jerked forward by the momentum.

The gang climbed out of the car, straightening up and looking at the tall, intimidating building that they had to conquer in the space of a few hours. "Okay, troops, move out!" Darcy commanded. They split up into two groups; Thor and Jane and Loki and Darcy. Needless to say, the latter two were not happy about the pairing, but Loki's fashion sense would definitely benefit with Darcy at his side, even if his nerves wouldn't.

Their first stop was Dolce & Gabbana.

Loki stepped across the threshold of the store, took a look at their apparel, and plastered a revolted look onto his face. Since he wasn't looking at Darcy, he failed to notice that she, too, was surveying the store and wearing the exact same expression.

"Um, no," Loki decided, spinning on his heel to exit.

"Good call," Darcy muttered, turning her back to the mannequins and male models provocatively modeling underwear and other flashy undergarments.

They wandered around for probably another thirty minutes, then decided to consult the mall map. The pair agreed on four stores: Armani, Gucci, Nordstrom, and Ralph Lauren. All of their names sounded stylish and professional.

Armani and Gucci would turn out to be Loki's favorite places to buy jeans, belts, shoes, and V-neck tees. He never tried anything on; he just seemed to know what fit him and what didn't. Darcy surveyed him as they waited in the checkout line of Armani; his attention was otherwise engaged, so he didn't notice her scrutiny.

Loki wasn't Thor-caliber buff, but he did have a formidable build compared to your average guy. He probably weighed about a buck ninety-five, and his six foot four height accounted for some of it; but most of it was his muscle mass, Darcy guessed. She'd seen him shirtless this morning…his body type was identical to Channing Tatum's when he'd acted in The Vow. Darcy allowed herself to be distracted and drool over the actor for a moment. If she woke up from a coma and Channing Tatum told her he was her husband, she certainly wouldn't question him.

Darcy was pulled from her swooning as the cashier called for them to checkout. Loki smiled at the cashier, then—to Darcy's complete amazement—pulled a thick wad of cash from the back pocket of his borrowed pants. He simply dropped the whole thing onto the counter to cover the ridiculous cost of the clothing, picked up his three bags that were filled to the brim, and walked out. Darcy trailed behind, jaw dragging against the floor. "Where did you get all of that cash?" she finally stuttered out.

Loki merely smiled and kept walking, much to her annoyance.

The next store was Gucci. Their Italian made sneakers were what immediately attracted Loki, and even Darcy had to admit that they were cool. By the time they made it out, he'd bought five pairs of sneakers, two more pairs of jeans, some button-down plaid shirts, and a black leather jacket. The price was staggering: almost seven hundred dollars. But, once again, Loki coolly pulled out another wad of cash, dropped it, and exited the store. Darcy made her head hurt because she was thinking so hard about where the money could be coming from.

By the time Loki and Darcy got to the last store, Ralph Lauren, he was carrying five bags and had her carrying four, all of which were filled to carrying capacity. They were pretty heavy…to Darcy, at least.

This turned out to be the hardest outlet to choose clothing from. Darcy was picking through a rack of polos, holding one up every so often to let him see. He disliked most of them, but liked a plain white one and a navy blue one. Darcy learned that his style was equally dressy as it was casual; Loki had chosen a pair of khakis, white pants, black pants, a few sport jackets, multiple silk ties, pullover vests and sweaters, and loafers. After Loki had loosed yet another wad of money to cover his costs, there were too many bags for them to carry alone. Darcy pulled out her phone and called Jane, telling her to bring them a forklift. Jane just laughed and told her that she and Thor would be there in a minute.

There were twelve bags in all, so each person carried three. It'd been about four and a half hours since they'd arrived, and they were eager to go home. However, just as they were about to walk out the exit, Loki hesitated.

"What?" Darcy asked, weariness laced throughout her tone.

He ran a hand through his long black hair, looking timid. "I…want a haircut," he admitted. Jane and Darcy nodded, whereas Thor's brows knotted. But he said nothing.

"Alright, you two take this stuff to the car, I'll go with him," Darcy said. Before she handed all of their bags to Jane and Thor, she pulled out a pair of jeans, a blue-gray V-neck with buttons lining the V, some socks, and a pair of sneakers for Loki to change into after he got his haircut.

They wandered around for a bit, looking for a salon. When they finally found one, Loki stopped her at the entrance. "I'd rather you waited out here for me," he told her, gesturing to an empty bench in front of the place.

Darcy shrugged, too tired to particularly care. "M'kay."

Thirty minutes later, she felt a hand shake her shoulder to rouse her from her nap. She started when saw Loki in front of her, slipping her glasses from her shirt collar and putting them back on. Darcy sucked in a gasp as she took in the new Loki Odinson.

He was…attractive.

Loki's long hair had been hacked away and styled into a short-cropped manner, his bangs parted to the left and hanging down in a small arc near his eye. The V-neck had only the last small button buttoned, revealing the line where his pec muscles began. All of those days moping around on the roof had benefitted his skin tone; he was tanned, but not too dark. Just a light bronzing. And the jeans hugged his legs in all the right places, the ends fitting into the tongues of his white sneakers.

"You look…good," she finished lamely, feeling a pinprick of irritation at the smug spark in his penetrating emerald eyes.

"Why, Miss Lewis, I believe that is the first compliment I have ever received from you," Loki chuckled.

"Don't count on more," she muttered under her breath, walking past him towards the exit of the mall.

He kept pace with her easily. "You wound me," Loki teased.

"See a doctor."

Loki shook his head, grinning. He looked off into the trees as the summer breeze blew through his now-short hair, tugging gently at his shirt and dancing with the grass and leaves.

Jane was already in the driver's seat of the van, keys in the ignition and ready to drive away. "Props to you for not hitting one of us with the car," Darcy sniggered as she climbed into the back seat with Loki. She found that close proximity with him didn't annoy her as much. The air between them was…calmer.

"Shut up," Jane growled, making a face and looking out the window. Everyone else was laughing, but she soon joined in as Thor's finger poked into her ribs a few times. Darcy rolled her eyes, still smiling.

Darcy could only assume that she'd fallen asleep on the way home when she woke up lying in her bed. Someone had carried her to bed, taken her glasses off, and covered her with a blanket. Thor, she hoped.

The science assistant yawned, grimacing as the gross taste of her mouth registered; she hadn't had the opportunity to brush her teeth before going to bed. Darcy threw off the blanket, shed her jeans and t-shirt, and walked to the bathroom to brush her teeth. When she came back, she was fluffing her pillow when she noticed something hanging on the doorknob of her closet.

It was a leather jacket she'd been admiring when she and Loki had been in Nordstrom. The price tag had read one-fifty, so the want had sluggishly drained from her head. She gently pulled the sticky note from the jacket's lapel.

_**I saw you admiring this in the store. Thank you for assisting me today.**_

_**-Loki**_

Darcy read the note once more, smiled, shook her head, and then went back to sleep.


	4. Surprise

**Author's Note: Chapter four! Thanks for reading, and thanks for all the reviews (: You guys are great! Back to what I'm actually writing about, Loki has always been one of my favorite characters, second only to Thor. And Darcy is just…well…Darcy haha.**

**Disclaimer: I only own the Fanfic storyline.**

"Morning," Darcy groaned, disgusted. The sunlight was streaming in through the window, making sleep impossible.

"You should really amend your sleeping habits, Darcy. Noon is hardly an appropriate rousing time," a deep voice advised her. The grogginess made it exceedingly difficult to fully recognize who the voice belonged to.

The science assistant gasped, her spine jolting into a ramrod-straight position. Her fingers scrambled for purchase on the rims of the glasses resting on the nightstand beside her bed; finally, she grabbed them and slipped them on. Darcy instantly relaxed as she saw who her visitor was. Thor was leaning against the doorframe in all of his glory.

Literally. The god of thunder could have been chiseled by angels; he had his arms folded casually across his chest, making the sinews and muscles bulge impressively. The sun was shining on his face and igniting a fire in his blue eyes that could take on so many hues; essentially a mood ring. When he was angry, Thor's eyes would transform considerably, turning from the sparkling light blue they were now to the dark blue of a roiling sea as his powers increased tenfold. His golden, wavy blond hair framed those dancing orbs.

Sometimes, he was just so hot that it hurt.

"Have you been watching me sleep? 'Cause that's kind of creepy, Thor."

Thor's lips spread in a grin, revealing flawless white teeth. "No, I entered just as the light disturbed your slumber."

"I'm guessing you have something to tell me?" Darcy said through a yawn.

Thor's smile faded, his face becoming serious. He dropped his gaze to the floor, and it looked like he was thinking about what to say when his brows knitted together. Finally, he met her eyes again; those hypnotic blues were awash with gratefulness. "I just want to thank you for…putting up with my brother. I know that he is difficult to get along with, and his past cruelty to humans is unforgettable. But I am thankful that you looked past all of that yesterday, for Loki's sake."

The god's speech took Darcy off-guard; she'd not been expecting anything of the sort. Truth be told, a question about Jane's preferences of flowers would have been more likely to be heard than what he'd just said.

She swept her bangs out of her eyes, her mind flashing back to all of the atrocities Loki had committed when he'd been exiled from Asgard. He'd wreaked havoc on her home world. He'd killed people for fun. He'd almost caused the death of Clint Barton, who meant more to her than…well, anything.

Loki had almost destroyed New York, herself, and Jane along with it. Luckily they'd been transferred to a remote place before a random piece of debris could crush them or a freaking alien soldier could put a glowing, ball-like bullet into their heads. Did Darcy resent Loki for all of this? You bet she did. Could she ever forget it? You bet she couldn't.

But could she forgive him for it?

Darcy didn't really know, if she was honest with herself. After yesterday, she felt kind of in limbo whenever she thought of the god of mischief. She didn't dislike him, but she didn't like him, either. She certainly wouldn't consider them friends; if anything, they were mutual acquaintances. As she mulled over this, she came across a truth that was self evident: she would never forgive him for taking Clint Barton away from her. In the words of Fury, Loki had turned Clint into one of his personal flying monkeys. She had thought him dead; Jane could surely recount the darkness of her assistant's anger and depression after Darcy had learned that Clint had been taken.

"You're welcome. He just…seemed like he needed a day," Darcy finally replied. That was the only thing she could think of say.

Thor nodded, smiled at her, and then left the room.

Darcy sat there for a moment, inert; then she blew out a breath, kicked off the bedcovers, and shed her clothing to jump into the shower.

She was trotting down the stairs, dragging a brush through her hair, when her iPhone began to vibrate in her pocket. Darcy sighed in irritation, let the brush hang off of a particularly tough tangle, and answered the call, not even bothering the look at the ID.

"Hello?"

"You know, I kinda thought that you were going to be the one calling me," a soft, deep voice said. Darcy knew that voice anywhere; it instantly made her feel safe.

"Clint!" she gasped. A sharp yank sent the brush flying from her hair and onto the floor as a grin sprouted onto her face. Loki and Jane looked up from their coffees and newspapers, the former confused and the latter surprised.

"Hi," Clint laughed. Darcy danced into the empty living room to get some more privacy.

"Are you okay? Where are you?"

"Calm down, Darce. I'm fine. I just called to tell you that I had a gift delivered to you."

Her eyebrows knitted; the postal service hadn't left anything. "You did? Well, I haven't got it yet."

"Has the mail come by yet today?"

"Yeah, like an hour ago." No one had gone to check if there were any deliveries, however.

"It's on your doorstep, then. I had to pick a longer shipping term because it was free."

"Charming," Darcy snorted. Hawkeye laughed. "Clint, the postal service would have rang the doorbell if they had a package for me. It didn't come today."

"Trust me; it's there. Just go to the door and check."

"Okay, okay." Darcy sighed, wandering over to the door. She flipped the lock and opened the door, convinced that there would be nothing.

She was wrong; Clint Barton himself was standing on her porch, smirking.

The master assassin grinned as Darcy's jaw hit the floor and her eyes bugged out. "Do you like it?" he asked, still talking into the phone.

A squeal tore from Darcy's throat; she hung up her phone and jammed it into her pocket, launching herself at Barton. Right before she made contact, Clint slipped his duffel bag off his shoulder so he could catch her.

She slammed into his chest, not even knocking him a millimeter backwards in her excitement to embrace him. Darcy felt his muscular arms constrict around her in a fierce return of her hug, and as she buried her face into his shoulder, she could smell the faint hint of Old Spice deodorant and some kind of cologne. The smell was pure _Clint._

Jane, Loki, and Thor had all rushed into the living room to see what the commotion was about. Only the astrophysicist and her boyfriend were particularly excited to see Hawkeye.

"Friend Hawkeye!" Thor boomed, striding over to lay one of his backbreaking shoulder claps onto the hero. Clint had put Darcy down by then, so he returned the gesture to Thor.

"Thor," he acknowledged. He craned his neck over the god's shoulder to get a glimpse of Jane; when he did so, Barton grinned goofily at her. "Hey, Jane!"

"Hi, Clint," she laughed.

And then the bow and arrow guru caught sight of Loki.

"What's he doing here?" Clint asked. His face was now devoid of any emotion except a faint shadow of anger, and his voice had dropped into a low monotone.

Loki's eyes darkened with the seed of fury. "Why don't you ask me yourself?" he growled.

"Fine. What are _you _doing here?"

"Don't you know? I reside here now."

"I don't think that's a good idea."

"Last time I checked, nobody asked for your opinion on the matter," Loki sneered. The fact that the two arguing men hated each other was indisputable.

"Well, maybe they should have," Hawkeye replied, his voice deadly.

"Girls, girls," Darcy stepped in. "You're both pretty. Can you stop bickering now?"

The god of mischief and his former involuntary subordinate glowered at one another, but backed down from the verbal front.

"Good." Darcy looked down, noticing Clint's duffel bag. "How long are you planning on staying, Clint?"

"I was planning on staying for a while. Don't really know how long. But maybe you should come with me instead." He kept his eyes glued to Loki's throughout his entire answer, trying to gauge what the god's response would be.

He didn't have to wait long; Loki's eyes nearly turned black with rage.

"That is highly unnecessary. She is perfectly safe here, if that is what you're worried about," Loki interrupted, his tone cold as ice.

"_Safe_? Not with you here, she's not," Clint scoffed.

"I would never hurt Darcy," Loki thundered, fists clenching with pent up anger.

"Liar," Barton accused. "You've already hurt her."

Loki looked confused for a moment, but when he got Hawkeye's point, he remained silent, seething.

Darcy cleared her throat, putting an end to their bickering once more. "I'm not going anywhere, Clint," she said gently. When he gave her a hurt look, she was quick to finish her thoughts. "But I want you to stay here. I haven't seen you in such a long time."

Hawkeye was quiet for a few moments. "Okay," he agreed.

And that was how it all began.


	5. Unexpected Trip

**Author's Note: Hey, what's up! It's me again with an update. Thanks for all the reviews; you guys are awesome! I know I left you with a little cliffhanger last time…but I think this will resolve it (;**

**Disclaimer: As hot as Thor and Hawkeye are, I don't own them…or anybody else in this story.**

Jane Foster was exhausted. With the whole-day shopping excursion two days ago that she never got to recover from due to Hawkeye's arrival the previous day, the astrophysicist hadn't gotten much sleep. Neither had anyone else, for that matter; Darcy and Clint were basically together 24/7, Loki spent all of his time away from the house during the day, Thor had been contacted by Heimdall to discuss Asgardian business, and Jane had been busy studying constellations of Yggdrasil and preparing for Erik's return from his trip to Paris, France. Erik had been sent to present his research on the Tesseract and how a similar prototype could possibly be manufactured.

So, cut to her and Thor sleeping until noon…and Thor looking like a hypocrite for telling Darcy not to sleep late.

The god of thunder eased awake, loosing an enormous yawn and stretching languidly. Jane groaned at his movement, and he looked over at her with a grin; she was facing towards the window with her back to him, snuggling deeper into her pillows. Thor turned onto his side, pressed up against his lover's back, and put his lips to her ear.

"It is high time that we got up," he whispered, chuckling when Jane shrugged her shoulder up to rub her ear against it and erase the tickling sensation of his breath. She mumbled something unintelligible, and Thor nuzzled his nose against the back of her neck. "What did you say, love?"

"I said, 'Go away,'" Jane moaned.

She felt her boyfriend's chest vibrate as he laughed. "That's not very nice to say."

"I'm tired." Jane used the common phrase as an excuse for her words.

"Well, I'm going to get up. I might make you breakfast, too."

At this, Jane rolled over, putting an angelic smile on her face. "Has anyone ever told you that you're fantastic, Thor?"

"You have, multiple times. But it is always nice to hear it again," Thor replied with a sweet smile, placing a soft kiss on the tip of Jane's nose.

Jane made a face. "What kind of kiss was that?" she demanded, locking a hand around the back of his neck and jerking his mouth to hers.

They were occupied for around five minutes.

When Jane broke for air, Thor simply moved his lips to her collarbone, nipping playfully. She was beginning to get flustered; heat was rushing to face and ears, electric jolts zapping her wherever Thor's lips touched her skin.

"Thor," she said breathlessly.

"Hmm?"

"We have to stop."

"Why?"

"Because, in a minute, I won't be able to."

"Well, it's a good thing that my control is more enduring than yours," Thor teased her, working his hands up underneath her t-shirt and pressing his thumbs to the base of her ribs. She squealed at the sensation, squirming to escape his grip. "In more ways than one," he added with a laugh, tickling her again.

"Stop it!" Jane giggled, wriggling harder to get away. Thor chuckled and surrendered, taking his hands from under her shirt and kissing her forehead before he rose from the bed.

Jane's cheeks were still flushed from her laughter as her eyes followed Thor around the room. He was so attractive that it bordered on ridiculousness; no one should look that good, it was just unfair. But she could live with unfair as long as he was hers.

"Don't put that on," she whined. Thor had slipped into his favorite navy blue t-shirt, so now he was in knee-length athletic shorts with no bare chest. This was severely depressing to Jane; she could stare at his physique for hours on end.

"We aren't the only ones here, love; otherwise I wouldn't," Thor laughed. He leaned down to press a kiss against her lips. "Any requests for breakfast?"

Jane's eyes flickered up to his, and a knowing grin bloomed on her face.

"Bacon," they said simultaneously, laughing.

"Good choice," the thunder god chuckled, placing one last kiss on Jane's lips before heading off to the kitchen.

Darcy awoke to the tantalizing smell of bacon. As soon as the aroma registered into her brain, she shot out of bed, threw on her glasses, some jeans, a t-shirt, and rushed downstairs.

If there was anything that you needed to know about Darcy Lewis, it was that the woman was serious about her bacon.

When she made it to the kitchen, she saw Thor cooking and Jane playing around on her laptop, but no Clint. That was funny…he hadn't been in his room when she'd passed it.

"Where's Clint?" she inquired casually, slipping a sneaky hand under Thor's beefy arm to snag a piece of juicy, delicious bacon.

"He went out for a bit. Something to do with Natasha," Jane answered, never looking away from her computer screen.

"Huh," Darcy shrugged, polishing off her first strip of meat and reaching for another. Thor rolled his eyes, giving her a fond grin.

They sat in silence for a moment, listening to the crackle and pop of cooking bacon. "Oh, by the way, you left your phone on the roof," Jane piped up, flicking her gaze to Darcy for a split second, then going right back to typing away.

Darcy gasped. "I did! It didn't rain last night, did it?"

"You were up for most of it, so you ought to know," the scientist replied.

Darcy tossed her a withering look, snatched another piece of bacon before Thor could smack her hand away, and raced up to the roof.

She froze when she saw Loki about to step into an oval of bluish light.

"What do you think you're doing?" she demanded, stopping the god of mischief in his tracks.

Loki turned around and met her eyes. Darcy realized she hadn't seen but a glimpse of him in the past day or so; she'd been busy with Clint. Guilt began to worm inside of her stomach.

"To Asgard," he said, not a chink in the finality of his tone.

"Oh," she replied awkwardly. "So…what for?"

"I will have words with my mother."

Darcy nodded. Loki turned back around, raising his foot to step into the glowing portal thing. "Wait!" she shouted.

Loki again twisted around. "Yes, Miss Lewis?" he sighed.

"When will you be back?" The god of mischief began to drum his fingers against his thigh. Her questions were agitating; it was strange that she wondered when he would return. "Jane's making lasagna for dinner," Darcy finished lamely. _Nice save, Lewis_, she spit to herself. She didn't even know why she was asking him all these questions; they were kind of just popping out. But Darcy had this weird desire to spend more time talking to him…and she didn't like it.

"Not until this evening, most likely."

"Oh," Darcy said again.

Loki nodded, facing the portal once more.

"Hold on! What does Asgard look like?" Darcy called, literally wanting to smack herself after she'd uttered the words. _Jesus Christ, Darcy, just shut your mouth_! she hissed internally.

Loki turned around _again_, not even bothering to keep the look of agitation off of his face and out of his rising voice. "Why don't you just come with me and see for yourself, Miss Lewis?" he snapped, wanting to get going before Thor or Jane or—God forbid—_Clint_ came up onto the roof.

Darcy was taken aback. "Are you being serious?"

Loki pondered this for a moment, the irritation melting away from his features and replaced by nonchalance. To be honest, he thought that she'd have just snorted and declined his not-really-an-invitation with a smart remark. "Well, I don't see why not," he finally decided after careful thought. Darcy had actually been tolerable on the shopping day that he'd spent with her. Talkative, but tolerable…and, though he'd never admit it, quite humorous.

Darcy took the tiniest step forward, her excitement on a rapid rise. She'd never told anyone before, but ever since Thor had come into their lives, it'd been her dream to see Asgard in person. It was described as the most beautiful place in the universe throughout old mythology and legends; with the way Thor talked about it, all of those stories didn't do it justice.

"Is it even possible?" she whispered. "For a human, I mean."

Loki couldn't really give her a one hundred percent positive answer; he'd never taken a human with him before. "I can't think of a reason why it wouldn't be," he replied smoothly.

"Translation: 'I have no idea.'"

The god of mischief chuckled; this human girl was perceptive.

"I'll take your silence as confirmation," Darcy hedged. She looked timidly at the portal.

No one said anything for a few moments. "Miss Lewis, as long as you are with me, I promise that no harm will come to you." Loki held out his hand to her. "Come on," he urged gently.

Darcy hung back for a while, hesitant. Then, in a brief rush of insane courage and before she changed her mind, she reached out and took his hand, gasping a bit when she felt an electric-like spark as their skin made contact. When she looked into his eyes, she saw his pupils dilate; Darcy knew that he'd felt it, too. She gave him a smile. "Let's go, then."

Together, they stepped into the glowing arc of light, vanishing from sight, leaving an empty roof with only the tittering of birds interrupting the now-calm atmosphere.

**Author's Note: Writing about Asgard…the next chapter is going to be so fun! :D Review for constructive criticism, tips, or ideas…all is welcome! (: **


	6. What a Woman

**Author's Note: Hello again! From this moment on, I will take to thanking all of my readers and reviewers for their support and criticism in these notes. It helps me a lot in developing as a writer (: This chapter, I have to say, was probably the most difficult to write, but also the one that paid off the most. Hope you enjoy!****Disclaimer: I own nothing but the storyline.**

For a few exhilarating, crazy, insane seconds, it felt as though all the air was being sucked from Darcy Lewis's lungs. She watched as the cosmos and stars whipped by her, never touching her but getting close enough to where she was sure that if she reached her hand out, she would be able to feel them.

All of this, Darcy took in silence. Loki mistook it for a reverent silence; she was silent simply because she couldn't scream. God knows she'd tried. Every time she opened her mouth and tried to make that fearfully shrill noise, Darcy couldn't find enough air to do so. Well, it was either that or she really was screaming but they were traveling through space so fast that the sound was drowned out before either person could hear it.

Finally, _finally_, something happened. The velocity of their speed stopped whipping their hair, the roar of rushing wind faded away as they entered another dimension. Darcy could almost physically feel it; there was _boom_ and a _crack_! It felt as though they were trying to pummel their way through an invisible, elastic wall.

Suddenly, Darcy felt Loki sweep her into his arms like they were honeymooners. She'd been about to push him away when she felt the impact that would have snapped her legs like twigs; they'd slammed into the rainbow bridge.

They'd made it to Asgard.

Darcy struggled to remember how to breathe. Her lungs wouldn't obey her until her feet again touched the ground. She gasped in a huge breath, her arms still in a deadlock around Loki, her fingers digging into his shoulders as though they were still flying through the air.

Loki uttered a small grunt. "Miss Lewis?" Darcy looked up at his face, her eyes still wide with shock and fear. Confusion tainted her face as she saw the grimace on his face and heard the strain in his voice. "Your fingernails," he finished simply.

Darcy sat in confusion for a few more seconds, and then made the connection; her not-so-dull fingernails were still digging into his shoulders, no doubt making little crescent-shaped indentions into the skin under his thin t-shirt.

"Oh! Sorry," she gushed breathlessly, retracting her claws and disentangling herself from his arms. "I just…it's just—"

"Welcome to Asgard." A deep, powerfully resonating voice interrupted her excuses for maiming Loki's body. Darcy whipped around, seeing an enormous black-skinned man standing near the bridge's jagged edge. He had his hands resting on top of the hilt of a huge, silver, razor-sharp sword. But the most incredible thing about this man was his eyes. They were a bright yellow-amber; little suns set into a face framed by a golden helmet corresponding with the golden armor he was wearing.

"Is that Heimdall?" she asked Loki, not bothering to look up at him.

"Indeed I am, Lady Darcy," the gatekeeper answered softly. She decided immediately that she loved Heimdall's voice.

"You know my name?"

"Heimdall knows all names," Loki explained for her, acknowledging the power of the gatekeeper that he'd once tried to kill.

"Does Asgard live up to your expectations?" Heimdall asked. The question was aimed at Darcy. Truth be told, she hadn't got a glimpse of the actual city yet; Loki's chest was blocking her line of sight. She shoved him out of the way, then gasped at what lay before her.

Asgard was a real-life Atlantis, right here in front of her. The palace in the middle of the city was gargantuan; it kind of looked like pipes that one saw on top of an organ, but this building looked to be made entirely out of gold. It was surrounded by smaller structures that Darcy could only see the shapes of. Encompassing Asgard was a vast ocean, lazily throwing waves here and there. The rainbow bridge was truly remarkable; looking down at her feet, she saw that, even though it was transparent, you could still see all of the glimmering colors.

It was…breathtaking.

"Wow," Darcy breathed, just staring at the paradise-like city. Nothing she would ever see on Earth could or would live up to what she was seeing now, in this moment. "How do you ever leave?"

Loki shrugged. "When you're born and raised here, everything seems so…plain. Normal. My reaction to Earth was much like your current reaction to Asgard."

Darcy gave him a look. "You were amazed by New York?" When Loki nodded, she rolled her eyes. "Idiot," she muttered under her breath, thinking of all the smog and ugly skyscrapers. The god of mischief tossed her a withering look.

"Your mother awaits your arrival. She doesn't know you have brought Lady Darcy along," Heimdall said. His back was to them now as he looked out into stars, but she knew he was talking to Loki.

"Will she mind?" Loki replied.

Heimdall chuckled; a deep, musical sound. "No, she will not."

Loki smiled at the gatekeeper's mirth. "Thank you, Heimdall." Turning to Darcy, he kept the smile in place. _He looks so much better with one_, Darcy thought. "Will you accompany me?" he requested.

The answer seemed painfully obvious to Darcy, so obvious that she didn't even know why he'd asked her that. "Um, duh. Did you think I was just going to stand here while you gallivant off to do some errands?"

"It was worth hoping for," Loki laughed.

Darcy realized something about his teasing. It was no longer meant to be taken literally; there was none of the venom his tone had held when they'd first met. Listening to him now, she could tell he was just kidding. So, she laughed with him.

"Touché," she admitted. Darcy peered down the rainbow bridge. _It's gotta be at least a mile and a half long_, she thought. "So, are we going to walk, or…?" she let her question trail off.

Loki shook his head. "Just wait for a moment."

Darcy remained quiet, waiting. Absolutely nothing happened, and impatience began to well up within her chest. "What exactly am I supposed to be waiting for?"

Loki glanced sideways at Darcy, one eyebrow slanted and a smirk on his face. "Listen," he instructed.

The science assistant closed her lips and strained to hear something in the silence. At first, there was only the sound of her own breathing. But then she heard it; a far-off clacking noise. She could see some tiny, dark shape at the end of the bridge, and it looked like it was headed towards them. As the thing got closer, it grew bigger and the clacking noise grew louder. Darcy could hear a pattern of four repetitive beats.

Finally, the shape became close enough for Darcy to see what it was: a horse. But it wasn't like any horse that she'd ever seen; this thing was freaking huge. It was bigger than a Clydesdale, and those were already giants to her. Regardless of size, however, the horse slowed to a trot as it came within five feet of them, but it didn't stop. The big stallion walked right up to Darcy and shoved its velvety muzzle right into her chest, whinnying softly. She smiled, bringing her hand up to stroke its glossy black coat.

"I think Firenze likes you," Loki chuckled. Maybe so, but at the sound of his name and his master's voice, Firenze pulled away from Darcy's hands and butted his head into Loki instead, winning some strokes to the neck.

"He likes you more," Darcy answered.

"Well, he'd better. We've been together ever since I was a boy." Firenze snorted in confirmation.

After a few more pats, Loki fluidly climbed onto Firenze's back. The thing didn't even have a saddle or anything else on. Darcy watched the god of mischief situate himself more comfortably as she squirmed in _dis_comfort. Horses had always made her nervous ever since she'd broken her arm being bucked off of one as a little girl. Loki looked down at her and noticed her demeanor.

"Are you afraid?" he asked gently. His tone was not cutting, but tender. She could see genuine concern and compassion in his emerald eyes.

She nodded, sweeping her bangs out of her face; a nervous habit. "Yes. I broke my arm when my father's horse bucked me off once. I was young then."

For the second time that day, Loki reached a hand out to Darcy. "Come on. Firenze won't hurt you…you have my word. And his," he added. "Right, Firenze?"

Firenze whinnied, swinging his head up and down in what looked like a nod.

Darcy weighed her options. Then she swallowed her fear and took Loki's hand, shocked when he effortlessly one-armed her up onto Firenze's back, and even more shocked when he didn't release his hold once she was situated. Darcy stopped breathing as Loki took her remaining hand in his remaining hand and pulled her arms into a circle around his waist.

"Hold on to me," he commanded with a smile. "Press your legs to Firenze's flanks to further secure yourself."

Darcy obeyed.

"Are you ready?"

"Ready."

"Here we go," Loki informed her. He tapped his heels against Firenze's sides, and the horse proceeded to walk forward, his hooves striking against the rainbow bridge. Darcy braced herself, her arms around Loki's waist turning to constricting pythons.

"Please relax, Miss Darcy," he wheezed.

"Right! Sorry," she apologized, loosening her arms as she realized that riding a horse again wasn't so scary.

"If you are alright with it," Loki hedged after a few minutes, "I would like to push Firenze to a run. We will get there much faster."

Darcy hesitated, then nodded. "Okay," she agreed softly, discreetly trying to tighten her grip again. Loki's chuckle told her that it hadn't gone unnoticed.

"Come on, my friend!" he shouted, digging his feet into Firenze's sides. The horse immediately surged into a gallop. Every muscle in Darcy's body tensed. The soft pit-pat of the hooves had leapt to a roaring decibel level, and the speed of the run caused the wind to smash Darcy in the face, blowing her hair back and drying out her eyes. She was sure that she looked like one of those dogs with its head out the window of a car.

Finally, it became too much for her; eyes stinging, she lowered her head and buried her face into Loki's warm back, using him as a shield. Since her cheek was pressed to his body, Darcy felt his back muscles tense at the contact. Slowly, they relaxed again, and she heard a deep sigh leave his lungs.

Thor's brother had definitely been right; in about a minute, they were entering the city. Darcy could see now that all of the buildings were made of gold or silver. Some had gemstones inlaid within them, others had unique, ornate carvings. A select few even had both. But no matter how beautiful they were, the palace in which Loki's family lived trumped them all.

The sheer vastness of the castle-like house was exhilarating. Darcy had never seen anything like it in her entire life, never seen anything even half the size of it. The House of Odin was tall as a skyscraper, and each individual wall panel was intricately designed. Silver and gold were mixed around, and the most beautiful of diamonds, rubies, and sapphires were settled in among them. Carvings or symbols of some kind were drawn only into some of panels; making a pattern, it seemed.

"You _live _here?" Darcy asked incredulously as she lifted her head from his back.

Loki shrugged his shoulders. "I _lived _here. Mostly I just visit."

"You're crazy to choose New Mexico over this," Darcy said in disbelief.

"Thank you," Loki chuckled, swinging his leg over Firenze's neck and hopping off. He looked up at Darcy expectantly, tapping his foot on the ground. Darcy peered down, gauging the distance. It wasn't terribly high, but she was a klutz and the distance definitely had ankle-spraining potential.

Carefully, Darcy moved her right leg so that she was simply sitting facing Loki, palms braced against Firenze's strong back. She sucked in deep breaths, slowly blowing them out and trying to calm herself.

"This is ridiculous," Loki muttered to himself. Finally, impatience burst through the dam of his self control; he stepped forward and grabbed Darcy's legs, lifting her onto his shoulder. She squealed in surprise, fisting her hands into the back of his t-shirt to steady herself. Loki was glad that she didn't see his grin when she made that girlish noise.

Darcy gasped when he set her feet back on solid ground. "What was that for?" she huffed, flustered. Her cheeks were red, glasses askew, and hair wild.

Loki chuckled. She was like a petulant child. "You took too long to get off the horse, so I provided assistance. Rather gentlemanly, I thought."

"Yeah? Well, stop thinking," Darcy growled. She promptly began walking in the complete opposite direction of where their destination was located. Loki let her for a few moments, shaking his head.

"This way, Miss Darcy!" he called after her, grinning. He actually laughed when she stomped past him, growling under her breath and obviously steamed at him.

When they came to the large door of the palace, Loki hammered twice on it with his fist. The door was so huge that his knocking sounded like a wimpy plink. Darcy giggled at this, causing him to give her a confused look. She just shook her head and looked away, still grinning.

The door was slid open after a few minutes, revealing a small woman that looked to be in her late fifties. She had long, curly red hair that cascaded down to the bottom of her back. Her face retained a natural kindness, and as she smiled, it became even more obvious. All in all, she was very beautiful.

"Loki," the woman stated. Her voice was filled to the brim with tenderness as she reached for him, wrapping her arms around his waist and putting her face against his chest. She was even shorter to him than Darcy was.

"Mother," Loki returned. Darcy watched in shock as he bent his head down and pressed his lips to the top of her head, reciprocating her hug. If she hadn't of heard it for herself, Darcy wouldn't have thought that Loki's voice could take on such a gentle, kind tone.

Loki's mother noticed Darcy standing to the side after a moment or two. Her features lit up with surprise, then smoothed out again as the kind smile reclaimed her face. The woman walked right up to her and took her hand, peering up at Darcy with light brown eyes. "Who might you be?"

Darcy smiled at the woman's endearing charm. "I'm Darcy Lewis, Jane's assistant."

Her face lit up. "Ah, yes! Jane Foster!" She turned to Loki again. "Why hasn't Thor brought that girl here yet?"

"I don't know, Mother."

"I call you to visit me for the first time in a month, and you manage to bring a girl with you. Thor comes more often than you, but still he has not brought Jane to meet me," Loki's mother said in exasperation.

"I wouldn't take it personally. Jane's really busy most of the time," Darcy offered.

The woman smiled, then slipped back to being flustered. "Goodness me, where are my manners? I am Frigga, wife of Odin, mother of Thor and Loki."

"It's nice to meet you," Darcy said, a little shy.

"It's nice to meet you, too. I've been waiting for this day for a long time," Frigga sighed, somewhat dreamily.

Darcy's brows furrowed. "Excuse me?"

"Why, the day when Loki would finally bring a girl home! Thor had many female callers growing up, but my Loki was never really one to take initiative," she laughed. Darcy's face instantly burst into flames when she caught on to Frigga's assumption about Loki and herself.

"Oh, no, we're not…it's nothing like that," Darcy managed, her face beet red. "We've only known each other for a little over a week."

"Oh, so nothing quite so serious as marriage yet?" Frigga asked. Darcy probed her face for any vestige of teasing, but Loki's mother was completely serious. Her features displayed perfect innocence. Darcy opened her mouth to speak, then closed it. Open, close; just like a fish out of water. She was at a complete loss for words, so she desperately looked to Loki for help. It was _his _mother, after all.

The god of mischief, not looking quite so collected as he normally did with his neck and ears a flaming scarlet, cleared his throat to claim his mother's attention. "I'm not courting her, Mother," he managed to get out.

Frigga looked frustrated. "Well, why ever not? She's one of the most beautiful girls I've ever seen. Surely that fact hasn't escaped you?" she huffed.

_Oh, this is bad_, Darcy thought. It was actually physically painful to try to believe that this was actually happening. The science assistant found herself wishing that she would've popped a Xanax before agreeing to come on this trip.

Loki floundered around for words. The flush that had been in his neck was crawling up into his cheeks, making his eyes look even more green than they already were. "N-no, it has not," he murmured, squirming.

Darcy's jaw went slack.

_What?_

She remained calm on the outside, but inside she was like a roiling sea. Loki thought she was beautiful? No, no…that wasn't possible. He was just saying these things to appease his mother…yes, that was it. _He just wanted to satisfy her_, Darcy told herself. But, even as she thought it, she knew a part of her wanted it to be true. She didn't know why or how, but ever since Loki had given her that leather jacket, she'd been…drawn to him.

_Sweet mother of Odin…_Loki thought. He just wanted to bang his head against a wall. If he was being honest, he _really_ disliked his mother right now.

"Don't say it to me, Loki. Say it to her!" his mother commanded, her voice sounding like she was ashamed of how he was conducting himself.

Loki could stand this interrogation-like encounter no longer. "_Mother_," he hissed from between clenched teeth, so low that Darcy would not be able to hear. Frigga looked at her son, then decided to leave him alone about such things.

"Let's move to a more appropriate venue, shall we?" Frigga carried on flawlessly. She smiled as if the previous conversation had not happened in any dimension of any universe.

Darcy and Loki robotically followed her as she swept into the palace, the air between them tense and awkward. Neither moved to say anything, but both kept sneaking glances at each other. Whenever they happened to meet gazes, they hurriedly looked away.

After a while, Darcy gave up and just admired the palace. The inside was even more gorgeous than the outside; there were ornate tables and chairs crafted out of a shiny, reddish wood. Plush furniture was scattered here and there, and a bowl of fruit with a couple of wine glasses sat on every flat surface in every room.

They finally came to their destination; the throne room.

"_Damn,_" Darcy whispered, careful not to let Frigga hear her mouth.

It was simply breathtaking. The throne room was, by far, the largest room in this gargantuan castle. The gold ceiling had spikes of silver jutting out randomly, and royal red banners hung from many places. The floor was made out of a metallic, dark, smooth metal that Darcy had never seen before. It didn't look like chrome, steel, or a mirror; it looked to be halfway between gold and silver. Whatever it was, it was beautiful. A tribal-like carving pattern marked a walkway all the way to a single throne. Rows of circular walls curved out from behind the huge golden chair, encasing it in a half sphere. Two enormous sets of sentinel armor stood on either side of the throne, clearing forty feet in height. Each held an equally large battleaxe. Pools of bright blue water surrounded this entire ensemble, giving the room a peaceful aura.

"I see you have found my throne room," a voice boomed.

The threesome turned to see Odin himself striding towards them, his white hair billowing out behind his shoulders. The grin on his face wrinkled the corners of his eyes…or, his eye. Darcy assumed the corners of the other eye were wrinkled as well, but she couldn't see it due to a gold eye patch that seemed to hold itself in place.

"My wife," Odin greeted Frigga when he reached them, placing a kiss on her cheek. He turned to Loki next, placing a hand on his shoulder. "My son."

Then he turned to Darcy and smiled. "I would call you something of mine as well, but I'm afraid that I do not have a clue as to who you are, my lady," he said politely. It was hard to believe that Darcy was in the presence of the King of Asgard.

"I'm Darcy Lewis…a friend of Loki's." Darcy was quick to point out the relationship she had with the King's son, then she shook the man's hand. His grip was strong, yet gentle.

"Any friend of Loki's is a friend of ours," Odin assured her. "Now, I hate to be rude, but I'm afraid I have some business to discuss with my son."

"No, it's alright," Darcy replied with a smile. Frigga took her by the arm and led her out as Loki and his father began a low, intense looking conversation.

The two women were walking down a long hallway in a comfortable silence when Darcy loosed a huge yawn. When her mouth closed, she realized that she was really tired…like, fall-over-sleeping tired.

This didn't escape Frigga's notice.

"Follow me," she encouraged with a kind smile.

The Queen of Asgard led Darcy to a room that was dimly lit by an amazing diamond and crystal chandelier. The king-sized bed had four solid-gold pillars that each extended into a brace for the canopy hanging above the mattress. It was a dark brown with golden fringes that hung off the side. It went well with the forest green bedcovers and ivory pillows. Black marble dressers and wardrobes were positioned stylishly around the room, and above one of the dressers, two silver prongs jutted out from the wall to serve as a holding place for a strange-looking weapon.

Despite all of these things, all Darcy could stare at was the bed. It just looked so…plushy.

"Have a nap, dear. Everyone who travels between realms is tired when they reach their destination."

"Are…are you sure? I don't want to be an inconvenience to anyone," Darcy hedged.

"Oh, come now, don't be silly. This is only a guest room. It will be no inconvenience at all," Frigga assured her, smiling.

"Thank you…my Queen," she added awkwardly. Darcy had never addressed anyone as royalty before, but then again, this wasn't Earth.

"Just call me Frigga. I've never been one for titles," the Queen said.

Darcy smiled. "Thank you, Frigga."

"You're very welcome, dear. Now, get some rest."

And with that, she was gone, the door thudding closed behind her.

Darcy timidly walked over to the bed. Bracing her hands on the mattress, she kicked her shoes off, threw back the covers, and slid in.

"Holy crap," she moaned as her body relaxed. The bed was, by far, the most comfortable thing she'd ever been in. It was soft as down, molding to her body and cushioning her back. The pillows made her feel like she was sleeping on air.

The exhausted science assistant was asleep in minutes.

A shifting feeling woke her up; someone was climbing onto the bed with her.

"Did I wake you?" Loki's voice asked, apologetic. Darcy could hear the exhaustion in his tone.

"Yeah, but it's no big deal," Darcy yawned. "What are you doing in here?"

"I'm afraid I don't know what you mean." Loki looked confused.

"I mean, wouldn't you go to your own room?" Darcy reiterated.

"Miss Darcy, this _is _my room."

Silence ensued for a few moments.

"That sneaky woman," Darcy muttered to herself. To her surprise, Loki laughed.

"My mother told you this was a guest room, didn't she?"

"Yeah, she did."

"I do apologize for her behavior," Loki chuckled. Darcy found herself grinning; his laughter was contagious.

"That's okay. I've decided that I really like her."

"Good."

Silence stretched on once again, but this time it was filled with unspoken questions. When the tension was so thick that you could slice it with a knife, Darcy _had _to speak.

"Did you mean it?" she blurted, instantly wishing she could take her words back.

Loki didn't have to be a genius to understand that she was referring to the comment he had made about her being beautiful…even though he was, in fact, a genius.

"Yes," he admitted quietly. "I meant it."

A warm feeling flooded Darcy's chest. She'd never felt anything quite like it, but she knew that she was a fan of it. "Oh, well, thanks," she giggled, the sleepiness still fogging her head a bit.

"Do that again," the god beside her requested.

"Do what?"

"Make that noise you just made."

"You mean you want me to giggle again?"

"Yes," he confirmed gravely. The man was completely serious. Darcy couldn't help it; his stony face was just too funny.

"Stop making that face," she said, giggling again. The sound caused Loki to grin.

"What face?" he laughed. The adorable sound she made was infectious.

"The face where you're all serious."

"Oh, you mean this face?" Loki pulled himself together, stopped laughing, and set his expression into stone seriousness. His brows were slightly furrowed, his eyes slightly narrowed, his jaw barely clenched.

Darcy's giggling fit began anew; she was weird when she was tired.

"Yes, that one!" she laughed.

"I don't know, I kind of like it," Loki said, looking down at her and raising a brow, trying to look comical.

Darcy's mirth was interrupted by a yawn. "What time is it?" she asked on a whim.

"In Earth time, a day has passed. It is probably the middle of the night there."

Darcy bolted upright. "What? We…we have to get back! They're all going to be freaking out about where we are!"

This time, Loki's face was set into real, dark seriousness tinted with anger. "You mean _Clint_ will be worrying about where you are," he corrected sourly.

Darcy shot him an annoyed look. "What's your deal with him, anyway?"

Loki studied her face for a moment, then sighed, rolling over onto his back and looking up at the ceiling. He folded his hands on chest, not saying anything with words, but saying everything with his eyes.

Darcy followed his lead, rolling onto her back, too. She chose her words carefully. "Clint and I are just friends, you know. We've never been more than that in the past, and it's not going to change in the future," she said gently.

"I know he feels something for you," Loki pressed.

Darcy took in a breath. "Maybe, I don't know. But I don't feel anything for him."

Loki looked over at her, studying her eyes carefully. "Truly?" he asked.

"Truly," Darcy confirmed, smiling at him.

Loki decided to do something brash, something that he would have never considered doing to _anyone _before he met Darcy. He moved closer to her under the covers, wrapped his arms around her, and pulled her into his chest, resting his chin on her hair.

Darcy didn't dare breathe; she couldn't have even if she wanted to.

Then, slowly, her brain un-fogged, and she went with her instincts: she relaxed into Loki's embrace. A jolt of electricity began at her hairline and traveled all the way down to her toes, sending butterflies scattering everywhere as it passed over her stomach.

"Go back to sleep, Darcy. I have you," Loki whispered.

Darcy lasted long enough to notice that he hadn't called her "Miss."

Once Loki thought she was asleep, he brushed his lips against her hair. Something about this woman in his arms made him feel like he hadn't felt in a very long time.

She made him feel whole again.


	7. What a Man

**Author's Note: Hello! Thanks for all the reviews and favorites…all you readers rock! This is Chapter 7, and at the advice of one of my reviewers, I have decided to title it "What a Man." **

**Disclaimer: Firenze is the only thing that's mine.**

Darcy Lewis awoke to the sound of a door opening and closing in a very loud fashion. Not a slam, but annoyingly emphasized. She sucked in the first deep breath of the day, rubbing her eyes with the backs of her knuckles. That was the moment when she noticed that her glasses were not stationed at their usual post on the middle of her face.

Her hands began to blindly pat the blankets around her, frantically feeling for her means of vision. After a moment, she saw a very blurry shape in front of her face; reaching out, she felt a smooth, warm hand, and within it were her glasses. She slipped them on, everything instantly becoming crystal clear.

Including Loki's enormous figure looming above her from his sitting position on the side of the bed.

"Good morning," he purred with a dazzling smile. Darcy was blinded once again.

Memories of last night came flooding back to Darcy: falling asleep in the "guest" room, Loki coming in to lay down with her, Loki taking her into his arms. She could feel her cheeks heating up as she glanced into his eyes, then promptly dropped her gaze to his chest.

"Morning," she returned shyly. She gasped a little bit when she felt his fingers slide under her chin to tilt her face back up to his.

"Don't be shy. You're beautiful in the morning, too." Loki gave her that lopsided half smile.

Darcy could have died. Was she hearing him right? She had to be dreaming. Discreetly, she pinched the skin on the back of her hand between two of her fingernails.

"_Ouch_," she hissed, realizing she was fully awake.

"What?" Loki asked.

"Nothing. What time is it?"

"Well, I haven't been outdoors recently, so—"

"No, I mean on Earth."

"Oh. Probably about ten, eleven in the morning."

"Loki, we have to get back. They're probably freaking out."

The god of mischief pondered this for a moment, then sprang off the bed in one fluid move. "You're right," he decided, extending his hand to her.

Darcy took it, still marveling at the stunning electricity that spawned from their touches. But, even more surprising; Loki did not let go of her hand. He simply folded it into his own and led her out of the room and down the hallways which they had traversed yesterday.

The dynamic duo met Frigga just before they exited the palace. She looked at their interlocked fingers. Immediately, a devilishly satisfied smile lit up her face. _This woman is devious_, Darcy thought to herself, smirking.

"Goodbye. Return soon, darlings."

"Farewell, Mother," Loki bid her, bowing slightly. Darcy just waved; in return, Frigga gave her a conspiratorial wink. The science assistant shook her head and smiled, amazed at the woman's spirit.

Loki led Darcy away from the palace and through the streets of Asgard, heading for the rainbow bridge. They bid some citizens hello as they wound through the city. Due to Loki's superior knowledge of direction, they were at the bridge in no time.

Before they'd even set foot onto the colorful pathway, a whinny reached their ears. Darcy turned to her left; Firenze the horse was fast approaching. When he reached her, the stallion again shoved his muzzle right into her chest, looking for affection. Darcy complied, stroking his velvety neck. In a move of spontaneity, she braced her hands on one side of Firenze's neck and hauled herself up. Loki had a look of mild surprise.

She smirked. "I'm driving." Loki chuckled and mounted the horse as well, sliding in right behind her. Darcy shivered as she felt the warmth of his hands settle on her hips. Shaking it off, the dug her heels into Firenze's sides and they were off.

When they came to the end of the bridge, Darcy saw that Heimdall was in the same exact spot as he was yesterday. "Does he ever move?" she whispered to Loki.

"Only when he needs to," the god of mischief replied, sliding off Firenze. Darcy followed, this time on her own. "You continue to impress me, Miss Darcy," he teased.

"Call me Darcy. _Just _Darcy," she retaliated.

Something that she didn't recognize sparkled in the god's eyes. "Very well, Darcy. Let us return to the land of milk and honey."

Darcy looked at Loki as though he'd just spoken with a hillbilly accent. "Land of milk and honey, my ass," she muttered as she walked past him towards the portal that Heimdall had just opened.

The trip back to Earth was in no way different from the trip to Asgard; rocketing through space at, like, the speed of light…breaking through some invisible barrier. In a matter of seconds, the god and the mortal were stumbling onto the roof of Jane's observatory.

It was a bright, sunny morning in New Mexico. Darcy wasn't quite sure what day it was, but did that really matter?

Well, to her it didn't. But to Jane, Thor, and Clint, it probably did. "You ready to face the music?" she asked Loki.

He peered at her curiously. "Music?"

She waved her hand. "It was a metaphor. Let's just go see how much trouble we're in."

Loki nodded in agreement, put his hand on the small of her back, guided her down the stairs leading to the roof, and through the door that led to the kitchen.

And, of course, Jane and Thor happened to be in the kitchen.

Jane's head snapped up and her eyes became wide as an aye-aye's. "DARCY!" she exclaimed, jumping out of her chair and throwing her arms around her best friend. "I was so worried!"

"Oh, you missed me, too? How nice," Loki commented dryly.

Jane tossed him a withering look, but then focused right back on her assistant. "Where did you go?"

"To Asgard."

The astrophysicist's jaw popped open. "Seriously?"

"For real."

"Well, you should have told me where you were going!"

"Why? So you could come, too?" Darcy said with a grin.

"Yes," Jane giggled.

Thor simply smiled at the pair from the table as he stuffed eggs in his face. He didn't seem the least bit concerned about their absence.

And then Clint walked in. The god of thunder immediately stopped chewing, awaiting the eminent storm. The room became silent, and everyone tensed.

The master assassin's face lit up when he saw Darcy, but turned black with fury the minute he noticed Loki standing beside her. In a flash, Hawkeye had crossed the room, drawn back his fist, and landed an iron punch on the god of mischief's face.

"You son of a—!" he screamed. An explicit word followed the "a."

Loki's face was twisted with rage, but otherwise, no wounds were visible from the blow. Clint reared back to take another swing, but Thor's brother had other ideas. Quick as a wink, he swept Hawkeye's legs out from under him, sending him to the floor. Loki dropped to his knees beside him, smashing a forearm into Clint's chest to slam him against the floor again when he tried to get up. The god of mischief then wrapped a hand around Clint Barton's throat; the assassin spluttered as his airway was closed off.

"If you want to live, you will not touch me again." Loki's voice was quiet and deadly, bearing the stress marks of intense self control.

Darcy was finally able to move after a few minutes. She walked over to Loki and put her hand on his shoulder, surprised by her equanimity. When she touched him, Darcy felt Loki's muscles relax. "Let him go," she said gently.

"So he can strike me again? No, thank you."

"He's not going to punch you again."

"How do you know?"

Darcy shifted her attention to Clint. "Don't punch him again, please. For me." Then she looked back to Loki and answered his question. "Because I said so."

The angry god slowly loosened his grip, took his hand away, and stood up, positioning himself very close to Darcy while Clint breathed deeply. The assassin also rose. "Come on, Darcy," he said, his voice low. Barton took her arm, pulling her to him. Loki promptly grabbed her other arm.

A real, genuine growl emanated from deep within Loki's chest. It was the most frightening thing that Darcy had ever heard. "Take your hand off of her," the god commanded.

"She's coming with me."

Then Loki said something that stunned everyone. "She is _mine._"

No one said anything for a long, long time. Jane and Thor had just been standing with their jaws on the floor ever since Clint had punched Loki. The god of mischief's eyes smoldered, the usual emerald green mixed with a dark grey. "The _hell_ she is," Barton spit. His grip tightened, cutting off more of her circulation. She winced, and Loki's sharp gaze caught the indication of pain.

"You're hurting her," he growled.

Clint said nothing, but loosened his hold. Darcy closed her eyes in relief as the blood began to circulate again, the numb feeling ebbing away.

"You are nowhere near good enough for her," the archer hissed.

"I am well aware of that. But you are not any better than I am."

Clint's face screwed up into confusion. "What?"

"You. Are no. Better than I am," Loki repeated slowly, clipping his words.

And that was when Barton let go of Darcy's arm.

"You think that's what this is about? I want her for myself?"

"The thought crossed my mind."

Clint Barton could only stand there and shake his head. "I don't feel for her that way." When the only reply he got was silence, he continued. "Darcy and I…we've been friends for ten years. She's my little sister. I'm only trying to protect her from _you_."

"There's nothing to protect me from, Clint," Darcy murmured.

He looked at her like she was a senile old lady. "No thanks, Patty Hearst. I'm not buying any Stockholm Syndrome."

Darcy threw him a sour look and pinched the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger, closing her eyes. "You don't know him."

That comment threw Clint into a tirade. "Oh, of course I don't! The guy who made me betray Natasha! The guy who destroyed half of New York! The guy who took away my free will! Let me think…nope, don't know him!" By the end of his speech, Barton was yelling.

Darcy sighed. She'd never get through to her friend while he was in this state. "You don't understand," she said simply.

"You know, Juliet said the same thing to her father about Romeo. And we all know that Romeo was just a perv." Clint's wit was sharp this evening.

His wisecracks irritated Darcy, but she was relieved that they were changing the mood in the room. She decided to stop the play for the night. "Look. I know everybody was worried about us while we were gone—"

"Just you," Clint muttered under his breath. Darcy tossed him a dirty look, but continued.

"—and I'm sorry that we didn't tell you where we were going. The overnight thing wasn't planned, either, but…" She turned to Thor. "Your mother is a very crafty woman."

The god of thunder grinned. He was obviously not bothered at all that she had gone with Loki to Asgard. "You have no idea," he laughed.

She smiled, then a yawn got the better of her. "Well," Darcy spoke through it, "I'm going to crash. We'll continue this conversation tomorrow _in a more appropriate manner_," she emphasized, throwing glares at Loki and Clint. They looked away, chagrined.

The crowd of five dispersed, each doing their own nightly routine and then retiring to their own quarters. Darcy was finishing up brushing her teeth; she spit out the minty foam and put her lips to the faucet, taking a mouthful of water. Slosh, gargle, spit. Marvel at the perfect teeth you have, courtesy of years of relentless dental hygiene.

The science assistant shed her jeans and t-shirt, too tired to even put pajamas on as she slipped into the arms of her warm, loving bed. She was a mere inch away from sleep when a gentle knock sounded on her door. "Come in," she groaned, half dead. If zombies could speak, then that was what they would sound like.

And none other than Loki Odinson walked into her room.

He knelt by her bedside, tall enough that, even on his knees, his head still rose above hers. She was laying down, though.

"I just wanted to make a personal query," he murmured. His voice sounded timid; he must have been thinking about this one for a while.

"Fire away," Darcy yawned.

"Earlier today, when I said that you were mine…did that bother you?"

The god's question was enough to clear her grogginess. His consideration surprised her, even though she'd already seen a lot of his tender side. She mulled it over in her head for a while, then came to the conclusion that, no, it hadn't bothered her at all. In fact, it excited her. A man had never laid claim to her that way before.

Darcy smiled and took a risk, smoothing his black hair away from his face and then cupping his cheek with her palm. She felt him lean his head into her hand. "No, Loki. It didn't bother me. No one's ever said anything like that about me before, so it's kind of…nice, I guess."

The god of mischief smiled, his emerald eyes now back to their normal color. They sparkled with his grin. "So, you would not mind if I were to say it again?"

The science assistant giggled softly. "No, not at all."

"Then Darcy Lewis, you are _mine_." With that, Loki dipped his head and kissed her. But not, as you might suspect, on the lips. He placed his kiss on the corner of Ms. Lewis's mouth, giving her free reign to reject or accept his gesture.

Darcy was frozen. She literally could not move. Her eyes were as wide as the Elvis Presley dinner plates her mother had hanging in her kitchen. _Just a fraction of an inch Darcy…just turn your head a fraction of an inch and you'll be kissing him for _real! she thought to herself. But she couldn't move.

After a few tense, emotionally charged seconds, Loki pulled away and gave her a gentle smile, rising to leave the room. "Goodnight, Darcy. Sleep well." Then he was gone.

Darcy just stared after him for an immeasurable amount of time. After a while, a burning sensation in the middle of her chest began to register. It grew worse and worse until, finally, Darcy thought her lungs would explode…lungs! Her lungs! She'd forgotten to breathe ever since Loki had pushed his lips through her personal bubble.

Not that she was complaining…because she definitely wasn't.

Darcy Lewis flopped back against her pillows with a sigh, watching the ceiling fan go around and around, feeling the leftover adrenaline racing through her body, thinking of Loki.

Wondering how she was ever going to fall asleep _now_.


	8. A Burning Beacon

**Author's Note: This chapter, though short, was grudgingly written. But, even so, I realized it was necessary.**

**Disclaimer: I own zip. Except for the storyline, of course.**

_The sound of feet banging against the broken street carry the runner away from the falling buildings and closer to a horrible sound that her life depends upon. _

"_Darcy!"_

_The scream cuts through the noise of breaking city. It is desperation. _

"_Darcy! Darcy, help me!"_

_Clint Barton was pinned under Loki Odinson's foot, gashes and wounds open all over his face. The tyrant god's face only held a terrible, terrible sneer. His cruel eyes were alight with a cold, deadly fire. Darcy instantly thought of a snake._

"_Clint! I…I'm coming, Clint!" Darcy promised._

_But, as they say, promises are made to be broken._

_She ran faster and faster, but got no closer to her friend. Everything was in slow motion. Her heartbeat was the only thing that she could hear…the erratic, unstable beat that knew tragedy would occur._

_Loki raised his scepter, wearing a grin full of malice. _

"_No!" Darcy shrieked. "NO!"_

_But her pleas did nothing. _

_The blade plunged into Clint's back, a strange shout coming from the fallen hero. His eyes widened in pain, mouth twisted into a silent cry of agony. Finally, his head sank down onto the pavement, his body inert. The life of the assassin drained out onto the street in pools of scarlet. _

"_Clint! CLINT! No! Please…no!"_

_And then the monster was in front of her, carrying the bloodstained rod; it was a dark symbol for the coming rule. But Darcy stopped shouting. Her ears could hear a strange sound—it was like nothing she could describe. It sounded with every beat of the villain's heart. So evil, so dreadful. She swallowed hard, preparing to speak._

"_Th-that sound…in your heart. What is it?" she whispered._

_The Devil smiled at her. "Death."_

_This time, the scream was Darcy's._

* * *

Consciousness wrenched Darcy Lewis from her nightmare, causing her to fly from lying down to sitting up, spine ramrod straight. She panted as the adrenaline from the dream pumped fear into every corner of her body. Sweat slowly ran down her temples, leaving damp trails that glinted in the pale, white moonlight.

Hot…it was so hot. The temperature in her bed was sweltering…suffocating her. Darcy viciously began kicking at the covers, feeling desperately claustrophobic.

It was like being buried alive.

Her chest still heaving, Darcy vacated her bed and yanked on some sweatpants. She hurriedly wrapped a blanket around her shoulders, intending to do the only thing that would calm her fraying nerves.

Go up to the roof.

The night was bright, allowing her to see her path as she climbed downstairs, through the kitchen, and back up another case of stairs to get to her place of solitude.

As soon as she burst through the door, the cool night air rushed into her lungs, calming her. But it didn't last long. A feeling in her soul…it was like a ticking time bomb. It grew bigger, bigger. Darcy collapsed into a chair, and her heart exploded.

Sobs burst from her chest, rivers of tears flowing down her cheeks. It'd been a long time since anything had been able to make her cry. She cried now because she knew that, no matter how hard she tried, she and Loki would never be the same. They were too different…it would never work right.

Darcy clutched the blanket tighter to her shoulders, her knuckles white from her grip. She'd never felt a pain like this. It felt as if her heart was really breaking. Her chest felt like an anvil sat upon it as she struggled to breathe through her tears, her sobs making her shoulders shake violently.

No matter what happened, she knew that she would never forget this dream. She would never forget what Loki had done in reality. She would always be able to see the face of the Devil when she looked at him.

Though these feelings consumed her…Darcy just wanted to be alone. But the moon looked down on her in compassion, wrapping its glowing arms around her as she cried and cried.


	9. Confessions

**Author's Note: Wow…over 100 reviews! You guys are great (: So I shall return the favor by continuing to enjoy myself with writing!**

**Disclaimer: Is this whole non-ownership thing getting anyone else down?**

Loki Odinson stretched languidly, mildly annoyed at the orange sunlight streaming through his window. It seemed that there was no way to block it, so it woke him up every morning at different times. He surmised that it was very early; the sun was only just peering over the horizon.

_No one will be up at this hour_, Loki thought to himself. Slipping on a pair of gray sweatpants and a black t-shirt, he made his way through the house, barefoot and intending to watch the sunrise upon the roof. The place had quickly become one of his favorite places for solitude and introspection when it was unoccupied by other people, and more than once he had enjoyed the beautiful displays from what the humans called "Mother Nature."

He quietly opened the door to the roof, stepped out, and breathed in the soft, warm air. The god of mischief began to make his way over to his favorite chair, eagerly anticipating the relaxation of viewing a sunrise.

And then he noticed a form lying on the adjacent piece of furniture; it was Darcy Lewis.

Smiling, he walked over and brushed her bangs from her face. When her hair was out of the way, however, the smile disappeared instantly. Darcy's eyes were red and swollen, even in sleep. There were dried tears encrusted onto her cheeks, and sleeping in her glasses had caused her to get two little cuts on the bridge of her nose. Gently, Loki took them off of her, but he quickly realized that he had underestimated how lightly she slept when she stirred, her eyes fluttering open.

"Darcy?" he asked, his voice overflowing with concern.

"L-Loki," she stammered. To the god of mischief's surprise, she quickly shifted away from him. Darcy's face began to heat up as she avoided his eyes. She knew that it was stupid to feel ashamed for dreaming something that she had no control over, but the science assistant felt like she had betrayed him somehow.

"What are you doing out here?"

"Um…I came out here to, uh, look at the night sky. Fell asleep I guess," she lied, coughing up a fake chuckle.

Loki watched her face carefully. Her pulse began to beat faster as she spoke, and her brown eyes darted to and from his face. The telltale signs of a lie.

"You are a horrible liar, Darcy Lewis," he told her softly.

Darcy opted to say nothing, and just looked the other way. She felt her chest tightening again, and her eyes began to dampen.

"Darcy," Loki said. But still, she did not look at him. "Darcy, look at me, please."

Slowly, she turned her doe eyes onto him. When he saw that they glistened with tears, his throat constricted a bit.

"Darcy, I cannot help you if you do not tell me what is wrong."

"I...I don't want to hurt you," she whispered.

The god was quiet for a moment, confused. "I do not understand," he replied haltingly.

Darcy took a deep breath and just poured all of her thoughts out to him. "Last night, I had this dream…well, nightmare, really. And you were in it. It was when you were destroying New York and you just didn't care. I was running to save Clint, but I didn't get there before you killed him. And then I was yelling, and then you were in front of me with this awful, evil face and you said you had death in your heart and then…and then..." she trailed off, not trusting her ability to say what he did with a steady voice. Describing her dream had worked her up again, and she felt even worse because Loki's face had turned to stone during her explanation. His lips loosened.

"And then what?" he asked stoically.

"Y-You…you killed me," she said, her voice breaking. Two tears slipped down her cheeks, and her chest heaved. "Oh, God…" Darcy squeaked, looking away and putting a hand over her mouth. She struggled to compose herself. When she felt she could talk again, she continued. "And then I was so hot, so I came up here and then I cried because we're so different and I just struggled to understand why in the world that someone like you would ever love someone like me and—"

Darcy's hysterical admissions were abruptly cut off when Loki covered her mouth with his own.

She didn't move, didn't breathe, didn't even close her eyes. She was too shocked to believe what was happening. But when Loki slipped his arm behind her back and cupped her jaw with his hand, Darcy finally responded. Her eyes slid shut, and she moved her lips against his. They were soft, warm, and gentle. Both her hands traveled up his broad back to tangle into his long, jet black hair.

Although she hated to do it, Darcy pulled away when she needed air, breathing hard. Loki took his thumb and gently wiped the tears from her cheeks, then tenderly tucked her hair behind her ears. The god rested his forehead on the mortal's.

"Darcy Lewis, I love you because you challenge me. You are kind when I am not, you are compassionate when I am hateful. You are the complete opposite of me, and I have never met anyone else that I…gravitate towards in such a way. You should not ask yourself how _I_ could ever love _you_, but how _you_ could ever love _me_," he murmured sadly, stroking her jaw.

Emboldened by Loki's own insecurities, Darcy leaned forward and brushed her lips against his. "Loki Odinson, I love you because you are a constant mystery. You are capable of kindness despite your past, you can love despite your hatred. You are also the complete opposite of me and, according to Paula Abdul, opposites are supposed to attract," she giggled quietly.

Loki's shoulders shook as he chuckled. "I am not familiar with this Paula Abdul, but I like the way she thinks." His smile faded, though, and he regressed back to seriousness. "Darcy…is there any way that you could forgive me for what I've done in my past? I understand if it is impossible for you."

Darcy put her hands on either side of Loki's face, tilting it up so she could look him in the eyes. "Loki. I just told you I loved you…and I kissed you. If that doesn't say 'I forgive you,' then I don't know what does," she grinned.

Loki's lips spread apart to reveal his perfect, white teeth. It was the widest smile she'd ever seen him use, and it lit up his whole face. _He is so beautiful_, Darcy thought.

The god of mischief stroked the human woman's hair, placed a kiss on each of her eyelids, the tip of her nose, and finally her lips. When they pulled apart, he lifted her into his arms, sat down in the chair, and let her reposition herself in his lap. The arms that could crush cities were now cradling Darcy as if she were the most delicate of butterflies. She felt him press kiss after kiss into her hair as the couple watched the sunrise.

When the orange circle was halfway to its destination, Loki leaned down and put his lips to Darcy's ear. "In case you did not hear me earlier, I love you, Darcy Lewis," he whispered. Darcy smiled and snuggled deeper into his arms, letting her head rest against his sternum.

She could live with that.


	10. Typical Bliss

**Author's Note: Now I can write all the fluff I want…yay!**

**Disclaimer: I'm ready…depression…**

"Really, Loki," Darcy Lewis giggled. "Stop it."

"Hmm. It is a curious thing that you tell me to stop, yet you do not wish for me to," he replied, never removing his lips from her neck.

Darcy rolled her eyes. "That would be the ego talking," she muttered under her breath. She craned her neck in an attempt to see the TV screen over the thick, black obstruction that was Loki's hair. She hissed out a frustrated breath when her boyfriend's lips pressed into the hollow of her throat. This type of warfare just sucked. She would either have to give in to him, or deal with his poutiness if she refused him.

Well, since Law and Order was on, Darcy chose the latter.

"Loki!" she reprimanded for a last time. When he only chuckled lightly against her skin, she braced her palms on his chest and shoved. Since Loki was a god and all, normally the action would have been as futile as trying to push a brick wall. But, since he cared for Darcy, he allowed himself to fall back onto the bed. She was finally able to get a _really_ good look at Elliot Stabler.

The science assistant kept her eyes glued to the screen until the commercial break, then threw a glance Loki's way. He was pouting at her, and by the look on his face, he'd been doing it since she pushed him away. "You look like a puppy who's just been kicked," she stated.

Loki's pout changed into a glower. "If my pride is a metaphorical puppy, then I have been kicked."

"Oh, poor you."

"When you pick that horrendous television show over me, it really isn't flattering."

Darcy laughed lightly, not the least bit bothered by his attitude. "I didn't pick the _show_ over you, silly. I picked _Christopher Meloni _over you," she giggled.

Loki's jaw went slack at her bluntness. After he got over the initial shock, his eyes darkened with the mischief he was famous for. Promptly, the god leapt onto the mortal and proceeded to tickle her mercilessly. Whenever Thor had informed him about this lethal weapon that tended to make women knuckle under, he'd had his doubts. But it proved to be one of his most effective forms of persuasion when it came to his bull-headed muse.

"Take it back," he told her calmly, making sure he was heard over her shrieks of laughter.

"I take it back! I take it back!" Darcy yelled. Loki did not let up, however.

"Now say it," he commanded with a chuckle.

"What? No!" she squealed indignantly, only to scream again as she was bombarded. "Okay! Okay, okay, okay, I'll say it; just stop!" the woman begged. Loki finally let up, stilling his hands while he allowed her to breathe and make her admission.

"I am waiting, Darcy," he informed her after a few seconds had passed. His fingers still loomed threateningly over her ribs.

She grumbled something inaudibly.

"I'm sorry, I can't seem to hear you, Darcy."

Darcy huffed out an agitated breath. "Loki is the highest, most attractive being in the universe," she ground out.

Her boyfriend feigned delighted surprise. "Why, thank you! How very kind of you to say, love," he chuckled, swooping in to drop a kiss onto her lips. His face, however, was halted by her palm as she strained away from him.

"Don't you even dare," she warned him with a glare. He was trying to worm his way back into her good graces with his affection. Both of them knew by now that it worked one hundred percent of the time, but Darcy made herself feel better by playing some degree of hard-to-get. Plus, it really was annoying that he could make her stop being irritated with him with just the slightest of gestures.

Loki flashed her a dashing, guilty grin…then leapt onto her again, gathering both of her forearms in one of his large hands and pinning them above her head. "No! Don't!" she groaned, squirming around in every possible direction to evade his playful lips. The worst part? She felt a grin starting to build on her face. Darcy bit the inside of her cheek to keep the expression at bay, but her facial muscles were putting up a good fight. 'Twas a pity that her boyfriend noticed her struggle.

"I see that smile. You cannot hide it from me," he teased her, raining kisses onto her neck.

"Stop!" Darcy groaned as his ribbing brought out the dreaded grin. Then she did the unthinkable; she giggled. Which, under normal circumstances, would have been okay, but she was trying to stay mad with him at the moment.

Loki pulled back, faking a shocked expression. "Was that a giggle, my dear?" he asked with a mock gasp. When Darcy refused to say anything and pointedly looked anywhere but at him, he laughed and nuzzled his nose against her collarbone. He loved to wind her up.

Darcy's last vestige of resistance broke when Loki started nuzzling her neck. He really was extremely sweet to her, and she loved that he was so playful. She turned her face back to his and took his face between her hands. "You jerk," she accused, giggling again. She leaned in and gave him the kiss that he'd been hunting for.

"My lady is merciful," Loki chuckled against her lips. After an extensive make-out session, they cuddled up to one another and watched the rest of Law and Order together.

For Loki Odinson and Darcy Lewis, this was a typical afternoon.


	11. Winds of Change

**Author's Note: *PLEASE READ THIS!* This chapter jumps the entire story ahead by two years. I felt like time would be the thing to really solidify Loki and Darcy's relationship, hence the huge gap. Just fill it with tons of fluff and prosperity…oh, and I'm throwing a HUGE surprise at you people. (; And thank you for all your reads and reviews…you guys rock! (:**

**Disclaimer: Depression hurts…Cymbalta can help. **

** _Two Years Later_**

Darcy, Jane, Thor, and Loki were all sitting on the couch. Their attentions were intensely focused on the small child taking its first steps in the middle of the room. It teetered for a moment, but then balance was regained, and the first step was taken. And then another, then another. The child ended up in front of Jane. Plopping its small, chubby hands into her lap, it giggled.

"Momma."

Jane's squeal of delight was so high-pitched that it could have broken a window. "Oh, my baby boy!" she gushed, standing and swooping her son into an embrace. The child squealed as well and started clapping his hands together, as only babies can do.

His mother whirled around so that she was facing her husband. "Thor! Thor! Jacob can walk!"

The god of thunder loosed a mighty, rumbling laugh. "Yes, my darling. I witnessed the whole thing." He turned his gaze to his son, now speaking about him. "He is already full of strength like his father!" Thor crowed, taking Jacob into his arms because his son had reached for him.

"Dada," Jacob gurgled, petting Thor's long, golden hair.

"At least he knows I'm not his pet," the god chuckled, nuzzling his nose against his son's. The baby giggled again. Jane took a minute to just gaze at her husband and her child. She loved them both so, so much. She would do anything for them.

Jacob was almost an exact copy of Thor. The only things that differed were his eyes and hair. The hair? Curly like Jane's, not straight like Thor's. The eyes? Sure, they were blue _sometimes_. The odd thing was that they changed color quite frequently. The shifts were in a pattern of four colors: a frigid, icy blue, a warm amber with flecks of reddish orange, a rich emerald green, and a strange silver-grey. Thor seemed to think that it was some kind of symbol for his son's developing powers. He was, after all, a demigod. Jane, however, doubted the existence of any supernatural quality. Well, dreaded it, really. She'd seen the corruption power could bring if instilled within the wrong heart. It was not that she thought her son would grow to have a dark heart, but Jane knew that Thor had spent a lot of his years basking in arrogance and selfishness. Such was a bad mixture.

As for their child's name, Jane and Thor had been at a stalemate after they discovered that she was pregnant, which happened a month or so after the wedding. Both had the gut feeling that it would be a boy, so they chose names accordingly. Jane had chosen Jacob because, not only was it strong and masculine, but it had been her father's name. Thor did like it, but he wanted a name that had more of his Norse culture built into it. He ended up selecting Bjorn, but his wife was adamant that no child of hers would walk the Earth (or any other planet, for that matter) with such a title.

So they'd compromised. The outcome was Jacob Bjorn, a beautiful baby boy with lush blond curls and bipolar eyes. Even with them, Jane could tell that her son would be as breathtaking as his father when he grew to be an adult.

Silently, Loki Odinson watched the three of them laugh and snuggle close together, off in their own little world. He and Darcy were still seated on the couch, and a glance at her revealed that she, too, was studying the small family. She had a smile on her face that held a twinge of…envy? He wasn't quite sure. But Loki knew that he himself was, in fact, envious. During Jane's pregnancy, he'd felt a strange longing whenever he saw Thor resting his head against her swollen belly, softly talking to what was inside. After Jacob was born, the longing grew to an ache, but the pain subsided whenever he spent time with the boy…if only for a while.

Loki snaked an arm around Darcy's shoulders and pulled her close, burying his face into her sweet-scented hair. "It makes you think, doesn't it?" he murmured.

"Yeah," she whispered, not taking her eyes off of the jubilant baby.

A knot developed in his throat, and he tried to swallow it. "Do you think that…if we did, you know, have one…do you think that I would be a good father?"

Darcy listened as Loki's voice turned rough with emotion, and she knew that he was voicing one of his worst fears. Facing him, she took the god's face between her hands and kissed him.

"Loki," Darcy assured him, "I think you'd be a wonderful father."

One of the corners of his mouth pulled up into a half smile. "I know for a fact that you would be a perfect mother; I've seen you with Jacob." Loki glanced away and lost himself in thought for a moment. Then, his back straightened and his face looked as if the sun had just broken free of the clouds. He stood quickly, freeing himself of Darcy's embrace. In a flash, he disappeared up the stairs.

Just as his girlfriend was about to feel hurt, Loki dashed back down and, in what she would describe as a prance, returned to her side. He held out his hand. "Come with me, love." Darcy was puzzled at his sudden mood swing, but she took it anyway.

She struggled to keep up as Loki nearly drug her behind him in his haste to get them to wherever he was going. Finally, when they burst through the door to the roof and into the warm evening air, he slowed down.

Darcy's breathing was a tad on the heavy side. "Loki, what is the matter with you?" she gasped, bent with hands on her knees as she regained oxygen.

Loki paced for a few moments, running his fingers through his hair (which was long once again). Then, he turned to face her. Darcy's breathing hitched when she saw his expression: pure earnestness and determination. One hand disappeared behind his back as he fished around in the pocket of his jeans. Whatever he pulled out, she didn't get a chance to see because he'd closed his long, slender fingers around it. But all of her bodily functions wrenched to a stop as Loki Odinson knelt before her on one knee. For a fleeting second, she appreciated the irony that the god who had once forced mortals to kneel before him was know kneeling before her.

He cleared his throat. "I confess: I do not know much about human traditions, particularly the one I am about to partake in."

"Loki," Darcy squeaked. He held a hand up to quiet her, and then continued.

"When Thor confided in me that he was going to propose to Jane, I questioned his willingness to do it outside of Asgardian guidelines. But now I see why he was willing to give all that up," Loki chuckled. He hesitated for a few moments, then opened his hand to reveal a stunning silver ring. The band formed around a rectangular ruby that had two small diamonds lining it on each side.

It was beautiful.

"I had reservations, of course. But every day I grew to love you more. I did research on the tradition of human marriage once I realized that I wanted to entwine my life with yours. And, to be honest, I liked it much better than the Asgardian process," he laughed. "I found that it is customary for the male to present a female of his choosing with a ring that symbolized his desire and dedication to make her his wife." Loki's eyes bored into Darcy's. "Breathe, love," he reminded her with a fond grin. Darcy sucked in a breath, blushing when she realized that looking like a gaping fish was probably ruining the moment.

Loki plowed on. "And I discovered that, when in the act of proposing, the male usually says, 'Will you marry me?' to the female. So, Darcy Lewis…will you marry me?" he finished.

Darcy's jaw opened and shut a few times, making clicking noises when her teeth clashed together. Finally, she jerked her head from side to side to clear it. "Yes," she whispered, her heart beginning to grow warm. "Yes, yes, YES!" she shouted, running to Loki. He stood before she got to him and caught her with one arm, holding her to his chest and twirling her around a few times. After he set her down, he picked up her left hand and slid the ring onto the correct finger.

"You _have _done your research," Darcy giggled. Loki chuckled.

"In Asgard, we do not give rings," he mused. "The husband and wife are marked with identical tattoos which are engraved on their wrists, and no couple's symbols are alike. You see, when Asgardians mate, they mate for life." He glanced up at her, suddenly sheepish. "I was hoping that you would do that for me."

Darcy grinned the biggest grin and crushed her lips to his. When she pulled back, they were both breathless. "Of course I will, Loki. But just remember…once we do that, you're stuck with me for life," she teased with a giggle.

Loki laughed out loud, then leaned his forehead against hers and wound his arms around her back. "I cannot imagine a better way to live," he said simply.

Blissfully aware of their engaged status, the two participated in a _very _long kissing session…which was fine by them.

**Author's Note: This chapter was soooooooo fun! Hope you enjoyed it! (; **


	12. Revelations

**Author's Note: I am SO sorry for the hiatus…I've been extremely busy! (Volleyball season has begun.) Wedding plans…talk about hard to write! Pandemonium rampant. Lol! Listened to "Accentuate the Positive" by Perry Como while I was writing this XD**

**Disclaimer: All of the characters (except for Jacob) do not belong to me.**

Wedding plans were a female dog.

Jane, of course, had screamed with joy whenever she'd discovered that Loki and Darcy were engaged. She'd immediately switched to wedding planner mode, full steam ahead. Thor's reaction wasn't quite so loud, but he was just as energetic. After he'd broken about seven of her ribs with his hug, she could've sworn she saw tears swimming in those blue oceans of his. Little Jacob had toddled up to Loki and latched onto his leg, his eyes shining with a kind of blind love that only children were capable of. He'd had no idea what all the celebration was about, but Jacob could sense that it was a time to be happy. So he'd let his Uncle Loki hold him, giggling all the while.

After all of the hullabaloo, the wedding date had been set; and it was quite soon. Next month, to be exact. Loki was most insistent with his wish to be married to Darcy at everyone's earliest convenience. This was okay with Darcy, but it just seemed a bit rushed. It wasn't that she was getting cold feet, because she most definitely was not. It was just that…well, she couldn't really put her finger right on it, but something just made her nervous. Probably the fact that she was going to be wed to Loki in front of a bunch of people.

"_Darcy_!" Jane repeated for the third time, raising her voice a bit. Man, bride-to-be was really out of it.

The assistant snapped out of her jumbled thoughts, shaking her head a bit to clear it. "Yeah?"

"We need to leave in, like, ten minutes for the cake sampling."

Darcy released a sigh and ran her hand down her face. "Damn…I forgot about that." She was quiet for a moment, thinking about other things. "Okay, I'll be down in five." Jane nodded and exited the room.

Meanwhile, Thor and Loki were in the living room watching Jacob toddle around doing what babies do. Loki was unusually quiet and brooding today, but Thor accredited this to his impending wedding. Planning for it was normally stressful and required mass amounts of effort. "Are you alright, brother?" Thor asked him.

"Yes, I'm fine," Loki replied offhandedly, still staring into space. Thor opened his mouth to ask Loki the question that had been on his mind for weeks, but as soon as he was about to speak, Jane and Darcy came down the stairs.

"Hey, we're headed to sample some cake. We'll be back in a couple hours," Jane tossed over her shoulder as the two women exited the house.

"See you later," the god of thunder mumbled to the closed door. He rebuilt his confidence to ask his brother the question. "Brother, I need to ask you something."

Loki barely glanced at him. "Go ahead."

Thor took a deep breath. "Are you marrying Darcy for the sole purpose of having a child?" At the death look that his brother shot him, he scrambled to explain his thoughts. "That came out wrong. I know you love her, and I know that she loves you. But, ever since Jacob was born, I've noticed the way you look at him. Your gaze holds more longing for my son than it does for your fiancée."

"Where are you going with this?" Loki's voice was like ice.

Thor scraped a hand through his hair. "I want to know if you're not ready for marriage yet, but you are marrying Darcy now simply because of your desire to have a child."

The god of mischief's expression softened, and he took some time to think over his reply. "It _is_ true that I want desperately to be a father," Loki began slowly. "But I didn't ask Darcy to marry me just so she could make that wish come true. I asked her to marry me because I felt that we were ready for it. I've been studying the interactions between you and Jane for quite some time now. Darcy and I are the exact same way. Our dynamic, even though unmarried, matches that of a married couple. I realized that one night, and it was the same night I proposed to her."

Thor processed all of this. "I am relieved to hear that," he finally said. Loki just nodded silently. A small silence ensued, but the god of thunder broke it with a groan. "I suppose we should go pick out suits for this whole affair."

His brother chuckled and rose off of the couch, stretching languidly. "Yes, I suppose we should."

**Author's Note: Short, I know…hardly enough to compensate for a month's absence. But the next chapter will skip ahead to the wedding…so you have that to look forward to (: And I promise it will not be updated a month later haha.**


	13. Magic and Bonds

**Author's Note: Here comes the bride… (;**

**Disclaimer: Me no own any of the Thor characters. Just Jacob and the storyline that will probably never come true.**

Darcy Lewis riveted her gaze onto the mirror in front of the chair she was sitting in. A ghost-pale woman who looked terrified stared back at her. The woman's brown eyes were wide with fear, giving her the appearance of a deer caught in headlights. Her lips were pressed into a tight, thin line and her jaw was clenched so hard she thought her teeth might break.

But even so, the woman was beautiful. Her luscious, chocolate brown hair was braided intricately and woven into a gorgeous bun that loosely hung onto the back of her head. A white lace veil sat atop the braids, tiny pearls working together to make a unique design in the thin fabric. Her cheeks were dusted with a rosy red rouge that was desperately needed due to the lack of natural coloration from nerves.

"You look beautiful."

The voice came from behind her where a door had just opened to reveal Jane Foster. Darcy merely gave a forced smile and nodded once. She didn't trust her voice; if she tried to speak, the science assistant feared that she would throw up.

Jane immediately noticed her friend's anxiety; she herself had experienced the same feelings on her own wedding day. "Just take a deep breath, Darcy," she advised. When her assistant gave her a doubtful look, Jane regurgitated the advice in her "I'm-your-boss" tone. "Take a deep breath. It will help."

Darcy slowly inhaled until her lungs could hold no more, then blew it all out. She repeated the process over and over, getting faster and faster until her deep breathing turned into hyperventilation. Gasping noises escaped from her chest.

"Jesus, Darcy!" Jane exclaimed. She grabbed a paper cup, filled it with water, and then rushed to her friend's side, thrusting it into her hand but being careful not to spill any on her dress. The gown was truly incredible; it was simple, but elegant. The main fabric was pure white silk, and off-white beads made a floral design that curled around from the train to the bottom, then climbed up one side to fan out over the chest and straps, which wrapped _around_ her shoulders rather than going over them.

Darcy powered down half the water in one gulp, grateful to have something to moisten her sandpapery tongue and desert-like throat. Jane rubbed her upper arms and spoke to her gently. "Darcy, honey, I was nervous, but not _this_ nervous. Trust me, walking down the aisle is not that bad…and I had half of Asgard at _my _wedding. This is only family." By "family," Jane did not actually mean relatives by blood. None of Jane's family was alive, and Darcy's adoptive parents and brother were in Belize for a business conference doubling as their vacation. Everyone else who was coming simply passed as family because of their close friendships, and the list included: Tony Stark and Pepper Potts, Steve Rodgers, Bruce Banner, Clint Barton and Natasha Romanoff, Erik Selvig, and, of course, Thor and Jane. Admittedly not a big list, but Darcy was glad her wedding would be small.

"I'm not scared of walking down the aisle," Darcy whispered.

"Oh, well the vows aren't bad either. I mean, you'll have a note card, so—"

"It's not that either, Jane. We aren't even doing vows, you know that."

Jane's face shadowed with confusion. "Then what could you possibly be nervous about?"

Darcy gasped in a huge breath and then forced herself to identify the cause of her fears. "The honeymoon," she squeaked. Promptly after her admission, Darcy downed the rest of her water.

Jane's expression looked like the sun breaking out from the clouds. "Oooooh." A beat of silence ensued, but then she plowed on ahead. "So…you don't want to sleep with Loki right away."

"I…I don't know. I mean, maybe I'll be ready, b-but I've never had sex before and I know that's what honeymoons are famous for and—"

"Darcy. _Calm down_," Jane commanded, interrupting her rambling. Once her assistant was holding her proverbial horses, she continued. "You know Loki better than anyone else who is or has ever existed. Hell, you're _marrying_ him in about ten minutes. My point is, do you really think he'd make you do something that you were uncomfortable doing? Do you really think he'd expect you to sleep with him if you weren't ready?"

Darcy considered this, and knew Jane was right. "No," she admitted quietly.

"And have you ever stopped to consider that he's probably nervous, too?"

The answer was simple: no, Darcy had not.

"But…he's just so confident. Loki never doubts himself," she murmured.

Jane laughed. "That's just the façade that he puts up in front of you. I'm surprised you haven't seen through it."

Darcy fought the maddening urge to scrape her hands through her perfectly done-up hair. "He only heaps on the bravado when he's lying about how he feels towards something. Or when he knows he's wrong," she added, muttering under her breath.

The astrophysicist sighed and took her friend by the shoulders. "Look, forget about whatever façade he puts on under certain conditions. My point is that Loki loves you. If you aren't comfortable with having sex on your wedding night, then he won't make you. And I'm sure that, if he isn't comfortable with it either, he trusts _you_ not to make _him_."

"I-I would never do that," Darcy stammered.

Jane took in a slightly frustrated breath. Her assistant was so frazzled when she had a lot on her mind. "I'm not saying you would. I'm saying that Loki is a big boy. He is man enough to admit it if he feels like sex would be taking things too fast."

The bride-to-be was quiet, but only for a few short moments. "What if I'm not brave enough to admit it to him? What if I allow it to happen because I'm…I'm too afraid to say something? I just don't want to disappoint him, Jane. I love him." Darcy's voice had hushed with emotion, and it sounded like she was close to tears.

Jane took her friend's hand. "You're over-thinking things, Darce," she told her gently. The maid of honor thought for a moment to come up with an appropriate metaphor that would serve as good advice. "Take your brain and put it in park. Take your heart and put it in drive. Trust your instincts," she added, in case her assistant didn't get it.

Darcy looked up at Jane, wondering how she had gotten so lucky in having her as a best friend. "Thanks, Jane. Really. Thank you."

* * *

The music pounded in Darcy's ears. It was time to walk down the aisle to the rest of her life. She took a breath and began to move. The small attendance all turned to watch her ascent, their expressions holding reverence for her beauty. Darcy felt her cheeks begin to burn. She turned her attention back to the front of the room, this time catching and holding gazes with Loki.

In that moment, all of her doubts and insecurities vanished like vapor in the wind.

Loki's eyes told her that he had been waiting for this moment for ages. That he had chosen her out of all the available goddesses and women in the universe, and made no apologies for it. That he loved her more than anything. More than his own life.

Darcy made it to the altar, climbed the steps. Loki's hands engulfed hers, the comforting heat seeping into her cool skin. All she could think about was Loki. She barely listened to the preacher's standard monologue; her love's emerald eyes were hypnotizing.

Suddenly, Loki cleared his throat. "I do." Darcy hadn't even heard the basic question that preceded his response.

"And do you, Darcy Lewis, take Loki Odinson to be your lawful wedded husband?" the preacher asked.

Darcy's face lit up into a smile. "I do," she repeated, satisfied that her voice had not broken.

"Then, by the power invested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife." The old man turned his attention to Loki. "You may kiss your bride."

As if he were holding delicate glass, Loki cupped Darcy's face between his hands and lowered his lips to hers, pulling back only when he was thoroughly sated. Tony Stark began whistling suggestively, causing everyone to laugh.

Darcy and Loki turned to their friends, waving goodbye as expected. Then, Loki wrapped Darcy in his arms and made them both disappear into thin air.

They reappeared in front of a small straw hut nestled in the middle of a jungle. Rich green foliage could be seen in every direction you looked, and brightly colored birds zipped through the high canopy, dodging the occasional swinging monkey.

Loki peered down at Darcy. "Are you ready?" he murmured. Darcy swallowed the lump in her throat and nodded. They stepped into the dwelling.

A single table was standing in the middle of the dusty floor, holding up a bowl that appeared to be empty. When they approached it, however, the contents began to glow blue. Light emanated from it, bathing their faces in the soft color.

Loki removed his tuxedo jacket, tossing it onto a lone wicker chair in the corner of the room. He rolled his sleeve up to the crease of his elbow, baring his wrist and muscled forearm. Darcy expected him to dip his hand into the bowl and smear the thick blue ink onto his fingertips. But, he simply put his arm right next to it and kept still.

The ink started to _move_.

Two thin tendrils rose from the bowl, twisting together before they rushed to the inside of Loki's wrist. It looked like they were carving something into his skin, but Darcy saw no trace of pain on his face.

When the tattoo was complete, the tendrils seeped into Loki's flesh and disappeared. The symbol on his wrist glowed blue for a moment, changed to the color of flames, and then faded to black. It now looked like a normal tattoo, but the symbol was nothing like Darcy had ever seen.

She knew it was her turn now, but she hesitated. Not because getting a matching tattoo would symbolize their lifelong bond, but because Darcy still thought it looked painful.

"It doesn't hurt," Loki reassured her gently, giving her his trademark crooked smile. Darcy smiled back timidly. She was still amazed that he could just look into her eyes and see exactly what she was thinking and feeling.

The new bride took a deep breath and positioned her wrist just like Loki had done. Soon, two more tendrils rose from the bowl, entwined around one another, and then dove onto the inside of her wrist. Her husband was right; it didn't hurt. It felt more like a feather running along her skin, drawing an intricate pattern.

After the symbol was complete, hers too glowed blue, flashed to the color of fire, and then dimmed to black. She examined it more closely, looking at the lines that made some kind of foreign meaning. Darcy brushed her thumb over it, and when she did, the ink shimmered blue and then turned back to black. Repeating the movement many times, she noticed that the same thing happened over and over.

"It's the magic inside of the ink," Loki explained, watching her experiment.

Darcy looked up at him. "Why does the ink need to be magical?"

"Truthfully, I do not know."

"Oh." She was quiet for a moment, then peered out a tiny window on the back wall of the hut. The swarming trees and vines reminded her that she had an important question. "Loki?"

"Yes?"

"Um…where are we?" Darcy asked.

A wolfish grin graced Loki's face. "I did tell you that I would keep the honeymoon location a secret until we got there. And we are here."

"Where is here?" his bride pressed.

"India."

**Author's Note: This seemed like a good place to end it. Hope you liked it, I had a little trouble with the tattoo scene. Writing it sucked because I didn't know how to explain my own imagination. Review if you wish to do so; constructive criticism and advice are always welcome! (:**


	14. Reservations

**Author's Note: Wow! Holy crap. A month has flown by already. Forgive me; I'm in high school and the year started up again. Sports are in full swing, as is homework haha. Anyway, I'm not going to make this too long because I have to think of how to plan the next chapter. Payoff is coming…I promise (;**

**Disclaimer: I do not own any of Marvel's characters.**

"Loki…that's a tiger!" Darcy gushed.

Loki Odinson's lips twitched at the corners. "You're supposed to be whispering, my dear."

"I am." Darcy Lewis-Odinson had never been particularly adept at keeping quiet; the threat of being eaten by a big cat apparently didn't change that.

"You most certainly are not," he replied, raising a brow in amusement.

"Whatever," she huffed, rolling her eyes. Loki chuckled and shifted his attention back to the animal that stood about a hundred feet away.

The tiger was fairly large; if Loki were standing right beside it, the tips of its ears would probably be even with his hips. It's orange fur was the color of flames with thick, black stripes painting intricate patterns from the tip of its tail to its face. It was quite beautiful.

After sniffing around and marking its territory, the cat wandered off to elsewhere.

"What do we do now?" Darcy asked. They'd already been in India for a week and done everything that tourists could possibly do. The country was truly amazing; it didn't get half as much publicity as it deserved.

A bit of color flowed to Loki's cheeks. "I actually made reservations for us to eat."

Darcy's brows knotted together. "Where?"

"Back at the hotel." His wife's face was still confused, so he elaborated just a little bit more. "I arranged for a dinner to be set up on the balcony of our room."

"Oh." Surprise colored her tone. "Okay, then. Let's head back," Darcy finished, smiling and taking Loki's hand in hers.

He squeezed hers in return, and together they walked to the car. The whole way, Loki was hoping that Darcy would love what he had in store for her.


	15. No Going Back

**Author's Note: Oh. My. God. I am so sorry for the (how long? Like, three month?) hiatus. School is totally kicking my butt, and—dare I say it? I forgot that I had to update until I looked at my profile the other day. But anyway, I promised payoff on Loki and Darcy. This is my first Fanfic with more…explicit content in it, so I really had to idea how to write it. I kind of just winged it because I have no personal experience in that area whatsoever, being a teenager and all. So, for that, I guess this story is rated a mild M now.**

**Disclaimer: No es mine, apart from the storyline.**

Darcy's fingernails tapped out the rhythm of her restless mind on the side of her wineglass. Ripples endlessly played along the surface of the dark red liquid, reminding her of that scene in Jurassic Park when the water told those crazy people that the T-Rex was coming to eat them. She and Loki had finished their dinner, and it had been nice; but almost too nice. No, that wasn't the right way to put it…cautiously nice? Yes, that was better. Throughout the whole meal, Loki had kept looking away hurriedly when she met his gaze and smiling nervously. Darcy wasn't stupid: something was up with her husband. If something was making him antsy, then it had to be pretty damn important, because he could keep his cool under pressure better than anyone she knew. (Except for Clint.)

Suddenly, a hand closed over the fingers that were tap-dancing against the glass, pulling Darcy from her thoughts.

"Stop fidgeting, love," Loki chuckled.

Darcy bit her lip, but said nothing. This didn't escape her husband's notice, as his eyes were still on her while waiting for her response. He set his wineglass down onto the table that was still in their room from the meal he had reserved for the two of them. Loki's brows knit together as he looked back to her. "Something is troubling you." It wasn't a question.

"Something is troubling _you_!" she shot back, not even thinking about it.

Loki blinked a few times, slightly taken aback by her outburst. But, he had to admit that his wife was perceptive. He had no idea how to…how had Jane put it? "Woo" her. Loki had texted her (phones were despicable devices, he had immediately decided after the phone autocorrected something innocent into something suggestive) about wanting to do the whole honeymoon thing correctly. Jane had told him to just be himself, approach it cautiously, and to be sure that they were both ready to take such a big step in their new, married relationship. And, because Darcy was something called "classy," Jane had suggested a romantic dinner as a precursor. It had been lovely and the food had been delicious, but Loki had been extremely preoccupied with how he was going to approach the subject of…of…intimate romance. His ears began to turn red just thinking about it, and of course, Darcy noticed.

"Spit it out, Loki," she commanded. Loki felt like a cornered animal; nowhere to go, no escape in sight. He ran a hand through his thick black hair and sighed, giving up. He decided that things would just happen naturally if this was the correct time and if they were both truly ready to dive into the deep end.

Rising from his chair, he walked to her side, took the wineglass out of her hand, set it upon the table, and held out his hand. Darcy took it, an air of apprehensiveness in her movement as she slowly rose to stand next to him. Loki leaned down and barely brushed his lips across hers.

"I love you, Darcy," he murmured simply.

In that moment, Darcy knew. She knew what he had been so nervous about, what had been on his mind. She knew what he wanted. Her heart rate skyrocketed and her breathing began to shallow. _Am I ready for this?_ she wondered.

"_Take your brain and put it in park; take your heart and put it in drive. Trust your instincts."_ Jane's words to her before the wedding came flooding back to her. Darcy took a deep breath and looked into Loki's emerald green eyes. They were gentle, devoid of pressure, and full of love. She knew she could trust him with herself. Her instincts were telling her to go ahead.

So Darcy listened.

"I love you, too," she whispered. Loki searched her face, and found that she had understood his hidden invitation. Elation ran through him as he realized that his wife had accepted. Without further ado, he closed the gap between their mouths and kissed her softly.

_Instincts, indeed,_ Darcy thought as she automatically wrapped her arms around his neck, deepening the kiss. Loki ran his tongue over her bottom lip, asking for entrance. A shudder ran through Darcy's body, nearly causing her legs to buckle. But she obliged, and their tongues collided. Their dance started off being slow and gentle, but it soon turned to a battle for dominance as Loki and Darcy began to feel an urgency that had never before been awakened in either mind or body.

When Darcy broke away purely to acquire more oxygen, Loki gently took the hem of her scarlet tank top between his fingers and looked deep into her eyes, asking for permission. Swallowing the uncertain lump in her throat, Darcy nodded almost imperceptibly; shakily, she raised her arms. Loki slipped the silk garment over her head and let it drop to the floor. His heart stopped dead in his chest when he discovered that she wore no bra.

"Darcy," he whispered raggedly, taking in her flawless torso. She blushed furiously, but felt no shame.

"Lift your arms up," she murmured. He obliged, never taking his eyes from her as she removed his t-shirt.

Though she'd seen him shirtless before, it had never been in this context, and it felt like Darcy was seeing her husband for the first time. Gently, almost reverently, she ran her fingers over the planes of his chest, abdominal, and arm muscles, tracing the veins that had become thicker due to the rapid speed of his blood flow. Her eyes flickered up to his, and she saw that he was frozen. She stretched up on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his lips, and Loki responded automatically, but his eyes were still riveted upon her perfect body, a hand trapped in the dense atmosphere that was halfway raised to meet her skin.

"You can touch me, Loki," she laughed gently.

So he did, and it elicited sounds from Darcy that neither had ever heard or thought her capable of making. Loki cemented his lips against hers once again, one hand trailing down her side, the other covering the small of her back and pressing her as close to him as possible.

Somewhere amidst the endless kisses, Darcy's hands reached her husband's waist and took hold of the buckle on his belt, a deep groan sounded in the back of Loki's throat, nearly turning into a growl as his wife slipped the belt out of the loops and undid his jeans.

Darcy pulled back to look into his face, and found his eyes blazing with desire; the usual emerald had almost completely transformed into onyx. "May I?" she whispered.

Her husband had to clear his throat. "You may." Loki's voice was deep, husky, and raspy. A pang of electricity shot through Darcy's stomach and down to her toes, causing her to feel things she'd never felt before. She began to push down the jeans, paused for a moment. Then, quickly so she wouldn't change her mind, Darcy hooked the waistband of his boxers and brought them down as well. Loki's jaw clenched so hard that he thought his teeth would break, and as Darcy reached for the button of her own jeans, Loki caught her hands in one of his and held them behind her back, more secure than iron chains.

"Don't…you…_dare_," he hissed against the skin of her neck. Once he was satisfied that she would stay still, he released her wrists and gently unbuttoned and unzipped her jeans, slipping them off along with her underwear. _Two can play that game,_ he thought, grinning wolfishly when she whimpered at the sudden exposure. But it disappeared just as quickly as Loki took in the full body of his wife at last, finding that it had surpassed all dreams.

"You are beautiful, Darcy. So beautiful," he said quietly, staring directly into her eyes and stroking her jaw with his thumb. She covered his hand with her own, leaning her cheek into his palm.

"I'm beautiful? You're the god here," she retorted teasingly. Then, she decided to turn serious. "But really, Loki. You're…you're perfect."

Loki only smiled in response, leaning down to claim her lips once again. Soon, Loki's lips were devouring her neck as breathing became a necessity. Heat was pooling in the pit of Darcy's stomach, creating a sensation entirely foreign to her but at the same time, delightful. When her husband's tongue traced the outer shell of her ear, Darcy's knees nearly gave way, and she could bear it no longer. "Loki," she gasped, her breathing staccato and ragged. It almost sounded like a plea.

"I know, love. I know." Her husband's tone was identical as he hooked an arm under her legs, lifted her, and carried her to the bed. Laying her down, he gently hovered his frame over hers. Loki's heart was beating erratically, his breath coming quickly.

"Are you ready?" His question was nearly inaudible. Darcy threaded her hand into his hair and kissed him one final time before giving him permission to change her forever; there was no going back.

"Yes," she whispered against his lips.

A few moments later, she felt a short, sharp pain and she gasped, her fingernails sinking into the skin of Loki's back, who looked down and saw a small amount of blood on the white bed sheet. Her husband immediately froze, his jaw rigid with the intensity of his self-control. Never before, in all his years of existence, had anyone ever made him feel like this, both emotionally and physically. "Did I hurt you?" he breathed, fearing her answer.

Darcy gasped in another breath. "No. They say it's like this for every woman's first time." When he remained unmoving, she continued. "Keep going," she encouraged softly.

Slowly, they began to move together, becoming one flesh. The heat in the pit of Darcy's stomach began to grow, sparks becoming a roaring flame. Loki felt it as well, letting out a guttural groan at the intensity of pleasure. Neither knew what was to come; they had never been with another before. But when it did come, they had never felt more complete or whole than in that moment when their love reached the highest point possible.

As their bodies began to calm down, Loki gently laid beside his wife. Their muscles were exhausted, but each was totally, utterly content. He pulled a thin blanket over them, and Darcy immediately curled into him, nuzzling his chest with her nose. "I love you, Loki. So much."

Loki stroked her hair, smoothing some of the wild strands away from her beautiful face. "And I love you, Darcy…my wife," he finished, hardly able to believe that he had been so lucky to receive such a gift despite the horrible things he had done in his life. Truly, he didn't deserve her at all.

But, as they say: _omnia vincit amor._

Love conquers all.


	16. Homecoming

**Author's Note: Christmas present for all my readers! I love Loki and Darcy. **

**Disclaimer: Nothing but the storyline and Jacob belongs to me.**

Darcy was glad to be home. Not that she hadn't loved it in India, because she had—Loki promised to take her back someday. But she missed her best friend's dry humor, Thor's exuberant laughter, and Jacob's antics.

After she and Loki had passed the point of no return with physical intimacy, things had just been…better. Their relationship had never been lacking in passion, but now it seemed like everything was on fire. It was the best kind of heat that Darcy could imagine. Loki hadn't asked her about pregnancy yet, but if Darcy was, they would be ready for it.

A pair of arms sliding around Darcy's waist interrupted her reveries. Loki's large, warm hands fanned out across her stomach, covering her abdomen. "Hello, love," he murmured into her ear, placing a kiss on her cheek. She smiled, leaning into his embrace.

"Hi."

"Are you ready to face the music?" he chuckled, bringing up her old words to him. The couple was standing outside the door to their home and both knew that the second they stepped over the threshold they would be bombarded with questions and affection from their family.

Darcy laughed at Loki's allusion to their past. "Always, maestro." She placed her hand on the knob and turned. As soon as the door closed behind them, a blond missile came rocketing down the stairs and didn't stop until it had collided with Loki's legs.

"Jacob, child!" Loki exclaimed, swooping him up into the air. Jacob squealed with delight, obviously elated to see his uncle after a few weeks of separation. Darcy looked on as her husband buried his face into his nephew's belly, making the boy shriek and thrash. Loki chuckled and set him down on the ground.

The commotion had drawn the other members of the household, and Jane was in the process of locking her arms around Darcy like she hadn't seen her in years. "I missed you!" she admitted with a grin.

"Missed you, too," Darcy laughed, disentangling herself from Jane's hold. But as soon as she was free, she was engulfed by a hug that was more secure than one thousand boa constrictors. Her face was smooshed into the unyielding—albeit heavenly-smelling—chest of the god of thunder.

"Friend Darcy!" Thor shouted, his voice practically a sonic boom. Lord help them all when his son began using his vocal cords, Darcy thought dryly.

"Can't…breathe…Thor!" she wheezed. When she tried to take a breath, the sides of her ribcage were rendered immobilized by his arms.

"Oh! My apologies," he laughed, releasing her. In turn, Darcy hopped up and threw her own arms around his neck, giving him a squeeze that—compared to his nearly immeasurable strength—was admittedly pathetic. Thor placed a hand on her back, almost spanning across both of her shoulder blades.

Once her feet were back on the ground, she stepped back and grinned. "You'd think we were lost at sea or something and just made a glorious return."

"Well," Thor began, pausing to pick up Jacob, "we have missed you."

"Yes. The house hasn't been the same without your babbling and ravings," Jane chimed in, her voice sweetly sarcastic.

As if on cue, Darcy and Loki both raised their right eyebrow in a look of incredulity. The so-called "norm" around the house was Jane and Thor's yelling for each other to check on their son's activities.

"I'm kidding," Jane supplied with an eye-roll. Darcy shook her head.

"Well, this reunion has been fine and dandy, but we live together and see each other constantly. I have family to call," Darcy sighed, thinking of the torrent of questions doubtless to be dealt by her mother. Everyone agreed and went to do their own things, returning the atmosphere to normal. Or their closest approximation, anyway—there were two gods in the household.

* * *

Darcy laid back on her bed, trudging through a chapter of Les Miserables. The author was droning on and on about the revolution. She was two seconds away from just closing the book when a pale, long-fingered hand appeared and did it for her. The pages came together with a clunk and Loki tossed it onto their nightstand. When he spoke, his tone was teasing.

"Human literature. So disappointing in so many ways."

"What, you write fiction on Asgard? That's more than a little ironic," Darcy tossed back, taking her husband's bait.

Loki's brows arched and he held up a finger. "Not fiction, darling, but factual accounts." He smiled as he thought of the historians that made Asgard the best of the Nine Realms. "Of course, some flair is needed."

"That would be a quality of _fiction_," his wife emphasized. "If you take a fact and twist it to make it sound better, it isn't a fact anymore."

"I like to call it creativity."

Darcy rolled her eyes. "Just admit it, Loki. Human and Asgardian culture doesn't differ very much once you get to their cores."

"You mean once you overlook the fact that most of the human race doesn't believe Asgard or any object inside Norse mythology exists?" Loki retorted dryly.

"Touché," his wife admitted through pursed lips. Loki laughed and hopped onto the bed. Just to bug her, he laid down next to Darcy and then steamrolled over her, stopping when he was literally laying on top of her.

"Loki, get off," she coughed out best as she could. Her husband wasn't exactly light as a feather.

"You make an excellent mattress," he replied, squirming around to emphasize his point. Darcy groaned and shoved at his solid back.

"Come on!"

"If you tell me you love me, I will gladly get off." A pause. "And then, if fortune is in my favor, get back on," he added saucily.

"Loki Odinson!" Darcy exclaimed, swatting his shoulder. Sure, her husband joked around, but suggestive remarks were rare. But she had to admit, it _was_ funny. She pressed her lips together in an effort not to laugh. When he squeezed her thigh playfully, her efforts were in vain.

Loki finally rolled off and balanced himself on his forearms. Pressing a kiss to Darcy's lips, he reached an arm over her and turned off the bedside lamp. The room was thrust into complete blackness as Loki settled into his own side of the bed.

"Goodnight, Darcy. I love you."

"Love you, too."

Time skipped a beat, then a wicked smirk formed on Darcy's face.

"So, do you think fortune will swing in your favor?"


	17. The End in the Beginning

**Author's Note: Life goes by so fast. Sigh. One thing never changes, though: Tom Hiddleston is adorable. The end.**

**Disclaimer: I own nada. Except the storyline, of course. **

It was nine o'clock on a Tuesday morning. About ten minutes after waking up, Darcy knew.

There was just something that told her. Some inner being that whispered to her: _you're pregnant. _Granted, all of the sacrifices to the porcelain god tipped her off as well. But, her instincts took most of the credit.

Shock came first. Then disbelief. Then fear. Finally, elation. She couldn't remember ever being happier in her life, excepting when she married Loki. Unfortunately, her husband, brother-in-law, and Jacob were away at Asgard for princely business. Loki had asked her to come with him, but she had told him that she was feeling a little run down.

Go figure.

However, after Darcy had received total conformation from a pregnancy test, she'd ran down the stairs and told Jane the news. They'd screamed for about ten minutes, then popped in _The Holiday_ and gorged on cookie dough ice cream to celebrate. The movie was currently at the part where Graham and Amanda were going on their date.

Darcy shoveled another spoonful into her mouth, humming at both the amazing taste and the view the TV screen was giving her. "Jude Law is so hot," she sighed, the spoon clicking against her teeth.

Jane nodded in fervent agreement. "Oh, I know." It was quiet for a few moments as they watched the young couple play around and kiss. "I'm glad we found guys like that," Jane added.

"Definitely."

They didn't talk again until the movie ended.

"Thor, Loki, and Jake get back today," Jane remarked.

"Yes."

"So…how're you going to tell him?"

"Oh, I don't know," Darcy began. "I was thinking about drawing eyes on my stomach with a Sharpie and writing 'Hi Daddy!' above them."

"How's he going to see that?" Jane wondered. Then, almost as soon as Darcy tossed her a look, she wrinkled her nose and nodded. "Yep. Gotcha."

Darcy laughed and rolled her eyes. "But, I'm starting to think that's too much work. I guess I'll just tell him face-to-face. How did you tell Thor that you were pregnant with Jake?"

"I threw up in the toilet for six days in a row."

"Ah. Charming."

Jane nodded in agreement. Darcy rose from the couch and stretched.

"I'm going to go call my family and give them the news."

"I'll be here, watching another Jude Law movie."

"Okay," Darcy laughed. She climbed the stairs, pulling her phone out of her back pocket as she did so. Her fingers flew over the keypad to dial her brother's number. He, of course, was pumped at the news. So pumped, in fact, that her mother and father apparently sprinted up to his room to see why he had yelled so loudly. They were overjoyed by the news.

When the call ended, Darcy looked down at the screen. Her thumbs fiddled for a moment as she debated whether or not to call Clint. She knew that he'd be happy for her, but not happy for Loki. In his opinion—which he made well known to her—Loki didn't deserve Darcy or any other kind of happiness. It was apparent that Clint would never forgive the god for taking away his free will and making him one of his personal flying monkeys.

Clint's protectiveness of Darcy had actually increased after her wedding. While they were on their honeymoon, he had called her every other day just to make sure that she was alright. Loki had been infuriated by his frequent disturbances, and had once almost teleported to Clint to personally put an end to the calls. It was only by his wife's wishes that he hadn't.

After debate, she dialed her friend's number. Clint was too dear to Darcy for her not to tell him. He picked up on the third ring.

"Hello?"

"Clint? You sound out of breath," Darcy said, sounding confused.

"Oh, yeah. I'm sparring with Nat." She heard a thunk, then Clint's hiss. "Ouch! That's totally not fair, I'm on the _phone_!"

Natasha said something that Darcy didn't hear, but it made Clint laugh. "Yeah, right," he snickered, then refocused his attentions. "Okay, Miss Darcy. You have my full attention. To what do I owe the pleasure of this phone call?"

Darcy didn't have any conversation-openers, so she just cut to the chase. "Clint, I'm pregnant."

Silence.

It extended for so long that Darcy thought he'd hung up. "Clint?" she ventured, her voice small.

"I'm here," his gruff voice replied. He sucked in a breath. "That's great, Darce. Look, I know it doesn't sound like I'm happy for you, but—"

"You're right, it doesn't," Darcy cut in drily.

"—but I am," he finished. "Really, Darcy. I am." Clint's voice had grown lighter, and Darcy could hear her friend's smile. She knew he was telling the truth.

"Thanks, Clint. That…means a lot to me."

"I know." They were both quiet for a few seconds. "So, whatcha gonna call him?"

Darcy laughed. "And you know for certain it's going to be a boy?"

She could practically see his shrug. "I mean, I have to teach him how to be a man, don't I?"

Darcy rolled her eyes. "I haven't thought about names yet. I mean, I just found out about Peanut today."

"Peanut? Wow. That's a great name."

"Hush up. For now, that's just what I'm calling him…or her."

"You're aware that if it's a girl I'm going to spoil her to death, right?"

"I would expect nothing less from you."

Clint chuckled, but it was cut short by a yelp. When he spoke, his mouth was obviously aimed away from the phone. "Geez, Nat! I'm already bruised there because you kicked me in the same spot last week!" he complained.

"I guess I'll let you return to getting your butt kicked," Darcy giggled.

"Oh, she'll be sorry once I put this down," Clint muttered darkly. Darcy had a feeling that he'd be playing some dirty trick or another.

"Okay, then. Tell Nat I said hello."

"Will do." Just as Darcy was about to end the call, Clint called out to her. "Darce!"

She put the phone back to her ear. "Yeah?"

"Do you think we could get together? Just for a couple days, or something. You know, go camping like we used to? I…I, uh…well, I miss my buddy," he whined. Darcy could just picture his puppy dog eyes.

"I'll have to check with Loki when he gets back."

Immediately, Clint's attitude changed. "What, he has to give you _permission_?" _Great. Now Legolas is angry_, Darcy thought bitterly.

Darcy ran a hand through her hair. She didn't really want to argue with him right now. "Clint…" she sighed. "Look, it's not that he has to give me permission. You may not think so, but Loki isn't like that—he's not controlling."

"Not controlling? That's really funny, Darcy." She hadn't realized her sketchy choice of words until Clint pointed it out. He _did_ have a point; Loki used to be controlling. Literally.

But, that was before he'd changed, before he'd fallen in love with her. "You know he's not like that anymore," she said defensively.

"I don't get how you can just forget all that he's done in the past!" Clint exclaimed, his voice rising.

Darcy felt the coals of her own temper being stoked. "I haven't forgotten, Clint. I've forgiven."

"Whatever," he spat. Then, a resigned sigh came from deep within his chest. "Sorry. I didn't mean to make you mad." He sounded sheepish. "It's just…you know how crazy Loki makes me." Clint's tone implored her to understand. And, although she loved her husband dearly, Darcy did understand.

"I know, Clint. It's okay."

"I really want to see you."

"Me, too. But, Loki's in Asgard with Thor and Jacob. I still have to let him know that I'll be going somewhere if we decide to do anything, which will have to be a little down the road. I haven't even gotten the chance to tell him I'm pregnant yet," Darcy admitted.

Out of nowhere, a voice came from behind her. "You're _what_?!" Darcy whirled around, pressing the phone to her chest.

Loki was standing right there.

"Loki…oh, my God." She whipped the phone back to her ear. "Clint, I have to go. Talk to you later."

"Yeah, later." Both callers disconnected, and Darcy slowly placed her phone onto the dresser.

"You're…you're pregnant?" Loki's voice was barely above a whisper.

Darcy looked away, tears rising into her eyes. She'd wanted this moment to be special. "Loki, I'm so sorry…I didn't want you to find out this way. I wanted to plan some big thing, I wanted to—"

Her words were cut short as her husband picked her up in a hug and whirled around and around as he laughed. When he set her down, he kissed her, then pulled back. Darcy gasped quietly when she saw his face. If ever the word "joy" was personified in history, it would be here and now in Loki's expression. The smile he wore reached all the way to his eyes, crinkling the corners and making the emerald orbs sparkle radiantly. His gleaming, white teeth were all showing due to the size of the grin.

Loki was so gorgeous in that moment that it took his wife's breath away.

"I don't care how I found out, love," he murmured, tenderly cupping her face in his hand. "We're having a child." As he said the last word, he reverently placed his other hand over her abdomen, his fingertips touching the base of her ribcage. The warmth of his skin seeped through Darcy's shirt, making her relax into the touch.

She slipped her arms around his waist and buried her face into his chest. Loki returned the hug, pressing his lips to her hair and inhaling her intoxicating scent. Oh, the things this woman made him feel!

"I love you so, _so_ much," he said quietly.

"You'd better, since I'm the mother of your child and all," Darcy quipped, her words muffled because her face was still smooshed into his shirt.

Loki's hands wrapped around her shoulders and pushed her back some. His eyes locked onto hers, boring into her soul. She shivered.

"Say that again," he whispered to her, leaning down to kiss her cheek. His breath ghosted against her skin.

"I…I'm the mother of your child," Darcy stuttered, drunk from his proximity.

Loki kissed her other cheek. Her forehead. Her nose.

"One more time," he requested.

Their lips were so close together that, when she spoke, they grazed each other. "I'm the mother of your child."

Loki's whisper was laced with emotion. "Good." Closing the remaining gap between their mouths, he kissed his wife in a way that, before he'd found out about their baby, he'd never kissed her before. When he broke away, he spoke her name.

"Darcy."

"Yes?"

He rested his forehead against hers.

"Thank you for making me a father."


	18. Descent

**Author's Note: Well, I'm currently sitting at work with nothing to do. I've found that it will be a convenient place for me to write, because I have a lot of time to get things done. **

**Disclaimer: Nothing belongs to me except Jacob and the storyline. **

Darcy Lewis-Odinson was now in her fourth month of pregnancy. She showed a bit, but not too much. Things in her everyday life hadn't changed much with the exception of not having a period (Darcy thanked God daily for that) and Loki's growing overprotection. She could only imagine what it would be like when she neared the end of her term.

She was curled up on the couch watching Scooby-Doo, of all things. But hey, the classics never die. Shaggy and Scooby were tiptoeing along, trying to avoid making any noise whatsoever. Then, out of nowhere, a skinny witch with a long, warty nose flies at them on a broomstick.

"Raggy!" Scooby cried, leaping into Shaggy's arms and curling his two front legs around his neck. Darcy chuckled as the detective's shaggy blonde hair stood at attention in straight up-and-down spikes and he sprinted away from the monster. The Lay's bag on her stomach crinkled as she reached in to pull out another barbecue chip. Lately, these had been her favorite anytime snack. She could eat them forever and then some, it seemed.

Lips suddenly pressed into her hair. "Good afternoon, my darling," Loki greeted her. He reached a pale hand into the chip bag and brought one up, throwing it down the hatch. "These are strangely delicious."

Not looking away from the TV, Darcy grabbed the bag and tossed it into his chest. "Delicious, but not healthy in the least."

He chuckled. "Taste trumps nutrition, m'dear." His wife only hummed in agreement. Loki rolled his eyes fondly and ascended the stairs, disappearing into their room.

Darcy, however, after watching a few more minutes of cartoons, fell asleep on the sofa, chip crumbs on her chest.

* * *

Two weeks later, Darcy awoke with massive amounts of pain in her back. She was wrenched out of her sleep, gasping in agony. Loki immediately tended to her, stroking her forehead and kissing her hair. Inside, he was panicking. Was this normal for a human pregnancy? He feared for the health of his wife if it wasn't; the pain looked to be excruciating.

After minutes that seemed like hours, the pain subsided. Darcy lay still for a few moments, waiting to see if it would return. When it didn't, she wiped the tears from her face and slowly sat up.

"Is…is that a normal occurrence?" Loki asked.

Darcy grimaced, putting a hand next to her spine. "I don't know. If it is, I've never had them before."

They talked for a little bit longer. Loki wrapped his arms around her as they both lay back down and went to sleep.

* * *

Over the next couple of days, Darcy kept having the back pains. She didn't tell Loki because she didn't want to worry him. But, every morning or evening, Darcy would look at herself in the full-length mirror in their room. Her stomach had been a bit distended from the pregnancy, and as she ran her hand over it, she had the craziest thought: was it just her imagination, or was it getting _smaller_? She looked at it twice, three times. Her swollen ankles had gone away, too.

Darcy shook her head and laughed lightly. She was going a little crazy with pregnancy jitters, she decided.

* * *

The week after the mirror incident, Jane and Darcy were just about to leave for town.

"Hey, I'll meet you in the car. I have to pee," Darcy said.

"Okay," Jane replied. She grabbed the keys off the ring and went outside.

In the bathroom, Darcy was almost finished when she noticed something. There was blood on her underwear. It was a dark color, almost brown. She'd never seen anything like it before. Her heart tripped, and her breath caught in her throat a little.

For the first time in four and a half months, Darcy felt like something was about to go very wrong.


	19. Today

**Author's Note: This was, I think, my favorite and the hardest chapter to do, just because it's going to lead to so much development for the characters. Put on your seatbelts and please go along for the ride. **

**Disclaimer: I own zilch of the stuff I'm writing about except Jacob and the storyline.**

Today was the ultrasound.

Darcy's instincts begged her not to go, to save herself the pain. She just _knew _something was wrong. But a part of her still held on to hope, so she went.

Loki was driving the new Hyundai Sonata he'd bought for Darcy. He'd learned eventually, unlike Thor. He always insisted that he drive because Darcy was pregnant, and somehow it equated to unneeded stress for her. She always got a kick out of sitting in the passenger's seat, looking over, and seeing a Norse god driving a car. It was just so unbelievable, but it was reality. It always made her laugh.

Not today.

Today, she felt like see was seeing her life from outside her own body.

Loki was chattering happily, oblivious to her mood. He was so elated to finally get a first glimpse of their child. It was hard for him to imagine a better day, if he was honest with himself.

The day was beautiful. The sun's bright grin was touching everything, bathing it in a happy gold. The wind was gentle and warm, dancing with the green grass and healthy trees. Birds floated on the currents, free of worry and trouble. Passing meadows housed robust cattle and horses, grazing contentedly.

Darcy touched her forehead to the warm glass of the window and closed her eyes, one hand on her stomach. She'd never felt her child kick before, and now was no exception. Her heart seemed to pump sadness through her veins instead of blood. They say that mothers always know when something is wrong; Darcy was finding the saying to be true.

Today, she knew something would be wrong.

* * *

Loki was putting the car into park. The clinic was right there, seemingly staring Darcy down. She pulled her arms tighter around herself, suddenly cold despite the summer. Her husband came over to her side of the car, opened the door for her, and helped her out. Once she was on her feet, Loki leaned in and kissed her. His hands framed her face.

"Are you ready?" he asked, a smile brighter than the sun on his face. His emerald eyes were so full of happiness.

It sent a spear of pain straight into her heart.

How could she tell him what she was feeling? It would break his heart. Ever since he'd found out that they were pregnant, the child was all he could talk about. Could she really shatter his perfect visions and tell him the truth?

Today, she would have to.

Darcy couldn't meet his eyes as she began to speak. Her voice was barely above a whisper. "Loki, I..."

A finger caught her chin, gently tilting her head up until she was looking at him. Loki's face was now a mask of concern, eyes raw and tender. "What is it, darling?"

She decided that, if she didn't just blurt it out, the words would never make it. "I think something is very wrong," she admitted quietly.

Loki's face slackened into fearful disbelief. "What do you mean?" His words were slow and confused.

"Do you remember the back pains I had a couple weeks ago?"

He nodded.

"Well, after that, the signs of…" She could hardly bring herself to say the next words. "…Of my pregnancy began to decrease. My stomach stopped distending, the swelling in my ankles disappeared. I bled some…some clots from my uterus."

"What does that mean?" Now Loki's voice was the one barely above a whisper.

"I…I'm not sure. Nothing good." Darcy's voice was broken and tired. She closed her eyes, trying to get away from it all.

Moments passed, basking in a tense, stony silence that could be sliced with a knife. Darcy gasped when she felt fingertips against her jaw and lips against her forehead. Strong arms wrapped around her as best as they could with her stomach.

"I love you, Darcy. No matter what comes, we _will_ get through it together."

She let out a small cry. "Promise?" Truth was, she was terrified. She felt like a caged, beaten animal that had no way out.

"I promise," Loki murmured into her hair. He held his wife close for a few more seconds, then took her hand and led the way into the building.

Today would change them both.

* * *

How cruel is it to cut off life before it has even began?

Today, Darcy and Loki found out.

Their baby, which had been a boy, had died in the womb. There had been no heartbeat on the ultrasound, and the doctor's face was grave. Darcy's worst nightmares had come true. She hadn't truly realized how much she had been depending on hope until that moment when it all came crashing down before her.

Her body wasn't going into labor to push the baby out, so the doctor decided to schedule a C-section. Darcy had protested at first, but she knew it was the rational, right thing to do. Loki hadn't said a word since the doctor had told them the news. His wife kept glancing at him, and her heart sank at the constantly stoic expression. She knew Loki wasn't looking at her because, if he did, then she'd see the pain in his eyes.

As they drove home, with the operation scheduled for two days later, not a word was spoken. Both were cringing into their own side of the car, and both of Loki's hands were tight on the wheel, his knuckles white.

Darcy stared straight ahead, out the windshield. The day was still sunny, and all of the birds still sang their own songs and flew on. The world didn't even know that she had lost her baby, and for a moment, she was blindingly angry. No tears had come to her yet for her lost child. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Loki suddenly raise his fist and scrape his knuckles against his cheek. When he placed his hand back on the wheel, the back of it was wet with tears. Darcy's throat closed up, denying her air.

She'd never seen Loki cry before.

Until today.


	20. Remember

**Author's Note: I decided to begin a kind of recurring theme with my chapters. I'm going to pair some of them up with songs that I feel really define parts of the story. This is the first one, so tell me what you think! And, to be honest, I kind of got depressed writing this.**

**Disclaimer: I own nada.**

_Sound the bugle now; play it just for me_

_As the seasons change, remember how I used to be_

_Now I can't go on_

_I can't even start_

_I've got nothing left; just an empty heart_

_I'm a soldier, wounded so I must give up the fight_

_There's nothing more for me, lead me away_

_Or leave me lying here_

An empty shell sat in front of the window, watching the heat waves pass by. Fingertips skimmed over the long, ugly scar on her abdomen.

The scar that now defined her.

Darcy hadn't spoken since before the operation. That had been eight days ago. She felt…desolate. Deserted. Like a ghost town who knew no one was coming back. The stained, white lace curtains billowed in the wind, utterly alone.

There had been a life inside her, a life that had once thrived and burned bright. But, like so many other things in the world, it had been stamped out by the unfeeling boot of cruelty. Her son had died before he'd even had the chance to live, before he'd even exited her womb. Darcy asked herself the same question day after day.

How would she move on?

* * *

Loki stood in the doorway of the living room. His wife hadn't spoken since her procedure. She hadn't even allowed him to touch her at all. Helplessness and hopelessness skipped hand in hand down the roads of his heart. It felt as if someone had taken all of the sorrow of the universe and injected it straight into his veins. The heaviness in his chest surpassed the weight of all other things. They had lost the baby, and that had crushed him.

But losing Darcy was _killing _him.

Every day, he saw more and more of her slip away like dandelion dust. He wished he could reach a hand out to collect all of the seeds and bring them back. To put Humpty Dumpty back together again. To bridge over the seemingly endless chasm of hurt that he knew she was harboring. All of the king's horses and all of the king's men, it seemed, were not coming.

The god hadn't even seen his wife shed a single tear since the doctor told them of the miscarriage. In that moment, he had seen a part of her just…turn off. Shut down completely. Malfunction. No longer shone in her eyes the spirit of one who loved life and embraced every twist and turn. It was only the blank, desolate stare of a stranger.

A stranger. Loki didn't even know his wife anymore.

Hot, fresh tears spilled down his cheeks, and he retreated to their—to _his_—bedroom. After all, Darcy hadn't slept in the same room as him since the baby's funeral. Loki buried his face into his wife's pillow. It still smelled of her hair: strawberries.

He clutched it to his chest and let all of his agony soak into the fabric.

* * *

_Sound the bugle now_

_Tell them I don't care_

_There's not a road I know that leads to anywhere_

_Without a light, I fear that I will stumble in the dark_

_Lay right down_

_Decide not to go on_

Fingers fumbled with the cell phone. Hands shook as the numbers were punched in and the call connected. The screen pressed up against a warm cheek, and shallow breaths gave way to gasps.

"Darcy?"

The sound on the other end made the woman's throat close up with emotion. She needed someone—him—so badly.

"Clint," Darcy whispered. Her voice was ragged and cracked from disuse.

There was a slight pause, and then a decisive reply to her silent scream for help. "Hold on, Darce. I'll be right there."

The line went dead, and waiting was all that was left.

* * *

_From on high, somewhere in the distance_

_There's a voice that calls: "Remember who you are."_

_If you lose yourself, your courage soon will follow_

_So be strong tonight_

_Remember who you are_

They made it to Clint's flat. As soon as they stepped foot inside, Darcy could no longer hold it in. The burden she was carrying was too much, and if she didn't release it, it would destroy her from the inside out.

Thick, strong arms wrapped around her as she sobbed into a warm chest. She was vaguely aware of him easing them both onto the couch. He settled them comfortably and stroked her hair and back, saying nothing but giving everything.

Hours passed. Time, however, had no hold. Exhaustion overcame Darcy. Sleep was merciful, and she sank into blackness.


	21. Appreciation

**Author's Note: Sorry for the late update. Keeping up with a lot of stories at once is a pain in the butt.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

Clint Barton looked at the sleeping woman in his arms. Heartbreak was a vicious force, and he knew it well. But, there were different forms of it and—though his experiences had been plenty painful—he knew that Darcy that was suffering horribly. Almost killing Natasha had been paralyzing for him. Finding out that Darcy's future husband was the man who had caused him to take that action had been crippling. Even so, Clint could say with utmost certainty that none of those were like losing a child.

The archer had waited until Darcy was asleep in his arms before he had begun to cry. Not only for his best friend, but for the loss of the baby, too. He'd been looking forward to spoiling the child rotten, whatever the cost. His sobs were silent, and he simply looked straight ahead as the tears ran down his face. There was something in his chest that would not loosen—a knot that would not come untied. Clint wiped his knuckles across his cheek to remove whatever tears remained. His eyes settled on Darcy's sleeping face, studying long and hard. He knew that it was the only time he'd be seeing her with a peaceful expression for a while.

He stroked her hair, rubbing his thumb across her cheek. Clint leaned down so that his chin was resting atop Darcy's head and tightened his arms around her. If it was up to him, nothing would ever hurt her again.

But, sadly, it wasn't.

* * *

About an hour later, he finally felt her starting to stir. Clint picked up the DVD player remote that sat beside him and pressed "play." The music that accompanies the beginning of a Walt Disney film began to permeate the room.

Darcy's brow knitted together, signaling that she could hear the noise. She stretched as a cat would. "Clint," the woman half groaned and half mumbled.

He chuckled. "You've been sacked out forever."

This news opened her eyes. "Really?"

"Yeah, probably for six hours or so. I nodded off a couple times, too."

She rubbed her eyes and yawned. "Why didn't you wake me up?"

Clint looked at her, and there was no trace of humor in his expression. "You needed the rest, Darce. You were exhausted."

Darcy clenched her jaw as the pain bit into her heart like the lash of a whip. She didn't want to further that line of conversation. "I have to pee," she announced, getting up from the couch and walking to the bathroom. When the door closed, Clint sighed and pressed "pause" on the remote. He knew she'd be in there for a while, so he rose to go make popcorn.

She came out just as the archer settled back onto the sofa, complete with a bowl of fresh popcorn and change of clothes. He'd shed his long-sleeved shirt and jeans in favor of gray sweatpants and a t-shirt that had the sleeves cut out. Clint's well-earned muscles and tanned skin were on display, his dark blonde hair in a state of spiky disarray. Darcy suddenly became aware that her own jeans were pinching in all of the wrong places, and she squirmed a little as she walked. Her friend gave a lopsided smile and stuffed a handful of popcorn into his mouth, pointing over his shoulder to his room.

"Shorts are in the left dresser. Second drawer," the archer informed her through a mouthful. As per usual, he'd read her mind. Darcy allowed herself a small smile and helped herself.

"What are you watching?" she asked a minute later, plopping down onto the couch beside him. She was now clad in white basketball shorts that surpassed her knees by noticeable inches since they were Clint's.

He pressed "play" again. "_We_ are watching your favorite movie," he corrected.

Darcy blinked, looking totally lost until the first scenes of the movie began to dance across the screen. "Pocahontas!" she exclaimed, seeing John Smith emerge out of the shadows.

Clint chuckled. "Duh. This is only the fifteenth time we've ever watched this together."

Ignoring the light-hearted jab, Darcy settled in to watch her favorite Disney film. About halfway through, when John Smith was discovering Grandmother Willow, she found her head once again on Clint's shoulder and his arm draped around her. This wasn't the first time that they had been close like this, and it hadn't meant anything serious in the past. But, things were different now. Darcy could feel something. It wasn't love, she knew. It was…appreciation? She didn't know what to call it, but it comforted her.

Suddenly, there was a sting on her wrist. She gasped quietly and looked down to see her marriage symbol glowing a faint blue. After a moment, the glow and sting faded, returning the ink back to its normal black. Darcy thought of Loki with a mixture of longing and hesitation. _I should call him_, she told herself.

However, Darcy could not bring herself to do it. She sighed and burrowed deeper into Clint's warm body, watching two people from completely different worlds fall in love.


	22. Truth

**Author's Note: It's slow-going, I know. But I don't have the time to write huge, long chapters right now, so they're only going to be a couple pages for the next update or so. I just have so many ideas I want to give a go at, so it's a lot of revising and tossing out.**

**Disclaimer: All of this no es mine. I only own the storyline.**

Clint looked down at the sleeping woman in his arms. His best friend, his confidant, his outlet. Right now, he was Darcy's safe haven, and he was glad to be so. The only person that had equal amounts of his affection was Natasha, however different the feelings he had for her were.

But, even though he considered it his job to be there for Darcy, his thoughts always strayed to Loki, her husband. A part of him would always hate the man. _No matter what_. Taking away someone's freewill and humanity wasn't something that Clint Barton forgave for. Regardless of the depths of his dislike for the Asgardian, he would always have to tolerate him for Darcy's sake. He knew that she would be a wreck if he and her husband made no attempts to get along whatsoever. Even so, there were nights when he awoke gasping from a nightmare in a world where Natasha had never saved him. In those moments, so much anger and fear pounded through his veins, and he wanted nothing more than to put an arrow through Loki's skull, just like he'd promised.

And he'd fully intended to keep that promise before Darcy went and got involved with the god. When Clint had found out from Jane that the two were a…couple, he'd immediately made a trip to talk to Darcy himself. He'd begged with her, pleaded for her to let whatever she was feeling go. To tell the Asgardian that she couldn't be with him. Every time, Darcy had refused him. Clint winced as he remembered when his temper had finally gotten away from him, and he'd snapped, "You must be desperate if you turn to evil incarnate for a boyfriend."

Well, that had gotten him the silent treatment for a good three and a half weeks, despite the multiple, daily calls he made to try and apologize.

Then, one day, she up and married Loki. He'd never admit to anyone—even under threat of death—that he'd had a major meltdown the night he received the news. The archer had trashed his loft, overturning and throwing anything possible. Sobbing, sometimes. He'd been in an utter state of hopelessness, because he knew there was nothing he could do to turn things back. Clint had been planning to get far, _far_ away on the date of the wedding, but Darcy had begged him to come. So, he had. It absolutely killed him to see Darcy so happy with someone he hated so much. But, Clint did not complain. He would not let Loki ruin the sacred friendship he had with Darcy.

It is because of his determination to keep his hold over Darcy that he picked up her phone and dialed Loki's number. He couldn't know where she was, and the god had to be panicking. Clint could tell that the man cared for Darcy, though he hated to admit it.

The god of mischief answered within one ring.

"Darcy! Where are you? Are you okay? You have no idea how worried I've been!" Loki's voice sounded concerned above all else, but Barton could hear the underlying tones of anger.

"It's Barton. Darcy's with me, and she's fine."

There was a beat of silence. When the Asgardian spoke again, his tone had completely transformed. "You son of a bitch," he growled, voice tight and exploding with venom. "If you don't bring her back _right now_, I will tear your heart out with my own two hands. I don't care if she sees."

Clint tried to respond civilly. He really, really did. But, he couldn't help the one little snap that came out. "You don't own her. Darcy can do _what_ever and go _where_ver she wants. Though, freewill has never really been your thing, has it?"

"I have no interest in being her warden. I only wish for her to inform me of her whereabouts so that I know she is safe. I trust you know just how unpleasant having a warden can be," Loki replied blackly, stabbing upon a very sensitive subject.

If Darcy hadn't been in Clint's lap, he would have been on his feet. But, he settled for tensing every muscle he had control of. "If I ever get a chance to kill you, I will."

"Is that a threat, Barton?"

"It's a promise," Clint snarled.

"You won't have to keep it if I end you first." On the other end of the line, the god of mischief was seething with rage, his eyes bright and teeth bared.

"Yeah," Clint scoffed derisively. "We'll see how long your marriage lasts after that." He spat the word "marriage" like it was a curse.

The god was quiet for a moment. "Very well," he hissed. "Just put my wife on the phone."

"She's sleeping at the moment."

"Well, then…please tell her to come home." On the last phrase, Loki's voice was gentle. It was something the archer had never heard before, and it utterly disarmed him.

"I'll tell her." Pausing, he decided to say more. "Don't push her. She'll just grow farther and farther away from you until she doesn't want to be with you anymore. The same is true for any grieving person."

"Asgardians mate for life!" Loki said indignantly, but Clint could hear the fear in his voice.

"Darcy is not an Asgardian. She's human."

With that, he hung up the phone and tossed it onto the coffee table. Ironically, Darcy began to stir at the movement.

"Clint?" she murmured, feeling for his arm. He lowered it to her hands, and she grabbed his forearm and held it to her chest.

"Here."

"Were you talking to someone?"

He took a deep breath; she wouldn't be happy about this. "I called Loki."

Darcy stiffened. "What?" she asked flatly, beginning to get up.

"Look, don't be mad, Darce. Darce!" he pleaded, catching a glimpse of her face. Oh, she was pissed.

"Get off, Clint," she huffed.

"No. _Look at me_, Darcy," the archer commanded, his tone now stony. The woman grudgingly looked up.

"I know you're hurting, Darcy. And, I know that seeing Loki brings you even more pain. What I don't know is why, and neither does he."

Darcy didn't answer, so he pressed.

"Why can't you be around him?"

She bit her lip so hard that she tasted blood. Tears welled up in her eyes, and her throat knotted. "Because I know he's disappointed. He wanted that baby so, so much. And when I look at him, I just…it just hurts."

Clint wrapped her in his arms. "It won't hurt forever, Darcy. But, I think it's hurting you both more when you completely ignore him."

"I...I didn't mean to!" she sobbed. "I love him!" Darcy pulled back to look at him, her face glistening with tears and eyes simmering with pain. "He knows it, doesn't he?"

Because he couldn't stand to see her broken expression, Clint guided her head back to his shoulder and soothed her. "I'm sure he does, Darcy…I'm sure he does."


End file.
